Posts Tagged ‘wooden pony’

They approached a small building that was hard to see in the dark, and waited while Thomas fitted a key into the lock. The door swung open towards them and he led the trio into a dim hallway. On the right she registered a large window, looking into what must be an office. The hall dead-ended at a series of small doors that looked like cells. They turned left, and a few steps later turned right. Opening up on her left side was a large room with …… Liz sucked her breath in….three cages. She closed her eyes, knowing without being told that one of those would be her home for a while. To her surprise, however, they kept going almost to the end of the hall to a door on the right.

“This is the training room,” he announced. He opened the door and started to guide her in, when she caught sight of some of the things in there. Rows of whips and floggers and canes, and a St. Andrews cross, and a spanking bench, and she didn’t miss the manacles on the wall. She tried to turn and run but was shoved roughly inside. She started to protest.

“Shut up. You are not to speak unless you are asked a direct question. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she remembered to say, trembling. Master Ryan followed them inside and closed the door.

Master Thomas pulled her over to the wall where the manacles hung on the brick and pushed her against it, her breasts pressed hard against the cold rough surface. He fastened each wrist above her head and then spread her legs and fastened them as well. She was whimpering with fear. “Sir, pplease, sir…” she begged softly.

Ryan spoke up. “Thomas, may I speak to you for a moment outside?”

“We will speak when I am done. Watch closely, young man, and see how a disobedient slave is broken down.” He turned his attention back to her.

“Master Ryan may feel he has punished you enough, but I don’t. You need to learn that any disobedience will result in punishment by me personally in addition to any punishment you get from anyone else.”

Neither of them saw Master Ryan’s grimace.

“Please, Sir, I’ve learned my lesson oh god please don’t hit me any more…aggghhhhhh!” He landed what had to be a cane across her ass and her world exploded. As bad as the belt was, this was far worse. She felt the shards of pain land from her ass down the backs of her legs almost to her knees. She descended into a dark place filled with misery and tried to hide.

When he was done, he left her there. She sobbed, again, as it seemed like she had been doing for days. She didn’t know how long she hung there, only that as the pain receded she became aware that she had to pee. She held out as long as she could but was more terrified of his anger if she peed on the floor than if she called out.

“Sir…I have to pee. Really badly…sir?” she called softly in the empty room. A few minutes later she heard the door open.

“You’ll just have to hold it for another 30 minutes. Don’t you dare let go.”

She longed to be able to squeeze her legs shut but the manacles prevented that. She held on desperately, the minutes dragging by endlessly, the pain in her bladder increasingly competing with the pain in her mangled butt.

At last she was aware of Master Ryan releasing her, but her whole world had narrowed to keeping her bladder shut and she barely realized when he sat her down on a toilet until her ass made contact with the seat. After holding it for so long it actually took a force of will to let go, and then she peed and peed and peed, and then her bladder spasmed at the end and there was more pain. Finally it was over. She took a deep breath and stood up to face him, keeping her eyes low, and waited. He bound her hands again behind her back, led her inside a cage, and attached a short chain from her wrists to the wall. He gently helped her down to the floor and was trying to get her to lay down, but she shook him off and leaned back against the bars of the cell, ignoring the pain in her bottom and closing her eyes. The clang of the door shutting behind him was one of the loneliest sounds she had ever heard but she had no more tears left to cry.

~ + + + + + ~

It surprised her that she slept as well as she did considering that her arms were beyond cramped and her butt was a constant dull ache by morning. She woke when she heard the cage door open. To her disappointment, it was Master Thomas instead of Master Ryan, holding two bowls in his hand, but it stopped mattering instantly as she realized how hungry she was. She waited but he didn’t move. He wanted something. She searched her memory wildly but couldn’t remember any instructions for this, so she did what she figured might be the best thing – she wiggled her way to her knees and bent her head over in submission. It must have been the right guess, because he placed the food before her – something that looked like oatmeal, and water in a bowl. She waited patiently for him to unhook her arms, but he stepped away and closed the cage again. She dared to glance up at him in question.

“You’re going to have to prove you are more than worthless before you get to use your hands.”

These words were so different than the words used by the other Masters last night. They had been firm, demanding, uncompromising and even cruel perhaps, but not all the time, remembering Master Ryan’s calming touches when she was panicking. But Master Thomas’ words sounded…. different. Vicious. None of the others had had the meanness in their voices that Master Thomas was showing.

All this went through her mind as she bent down to start eating with her mouth. She was too hungry to resist, and she knew resisting was not going to change things. She was in survival mode now. The oatmeal was unflavored and unsweetened and lumpy, but lumpy actually helped her get it between her teeth. The water was more difficult until she caught the hang of a lapping/slurping technique. By the end of the meal she had oatmeal all over her face, and was glad there was enough water she could dip her face into to do a little cleaning. Her hair, however, had fallen into the oatmeal and now it coated the strands nearest her face and there was nothing she could do about it.

She sat back on her knees when she was done and waited, for what she didn’t know. He came in eventually and unhooked the chain, but didn’t release her arms. He pulled her to her feet and guided her to the bathroom again, where she was able to pee. She had no way to wipe though.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered after she was done. She did, and gasped as a stream of very cold water hit her between her legs from the hose he was holding. He took his time rinsing the whole area as she gritted her teeth and tried not to wiggle. Finally he was done. He did not offer to dry her and led her, still dripping, out of the room of cages, down the hall to the room he had taken her to the night before. She started whimpering as she realized where they were going. He ignored her as he pushed her through the doorway.

“No, Master, no, please not again…” she begged, starting to collapse at the thought of a repeat of last night.

He said nothing, but brought her over to a low table and pulled out some steps.

“Stop,” he ordered. She obeyed, shaking like a leaf, and spotted Master Ryan in the doorway, just as she felt the bonds on her wrists release. Her arms fell useless to her sides as she cried out with pain. It was several minutes before she could voluntarily move them.

“Up on the table now,” he ordered, “hands and knees, just like last night, but put your arms out in front of you. Ryan, would you please secure them to the head of the table there?” She crawled up onto the table, silent tears leaking down her face, still not certain he wasn’t going to beat her again. As she slowly got into position she felt Ryan take her hands and wrap a strap around them, but not before taking them into his own giant paws and giving them a gentle squeeze. She looked up in astonishment into his eyes and saw the encouragement there before she lowered her head to the table, preparing mentally for whatever was about to happen. And since Master Thomas had made no move to clean them off, the oatmeal-covered strands of hair stuck to her face.

She couldn’t see what Master Thomas was doing, but before too long she felt his hands on her ass. She hissed with pain and tried not to move.

“Mmmmm… nice welts. These will last a long time. And mind you I will not hesitate to add to them, understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she answered meekly.

“I carry a riding crop at all times and any hesitation or smallest disobedience means I will use it, then and there, on those welts. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master, I do.”

She felt his fingers enter her pussy. They were not particularly gentle and didn’t get too far.

“You were sopping wet last night. Why are you so dry this morning?”

Was he serious? He really had to ask why? Last night there had been fear mixed with gentle touches and caresses – she was experienced enough to understand that kind of arousal. This morning had just been fear.

“I do not know, Master.”

He sighed. “It’s no matter. I have plenty of lube,” and he proceeded to squeeze a large cold dollop onto her lower back, where gravity did the work of letting it slide down into the valley between her tense ass cheeks.

She suddenly knew she was not going to be beaten again; instead he was going to have a go at getting something up her ass.

A moment later a finger began pressing insistently at the entrance. She panted and tried to relax to allow him entrance but he had to push pretty firmly before he could even get the tip shoved in. She grunted with pain. He continued to push forward. “Relax, dammit,” he growled, but she was as relaxed as she could get. She felt him try to get another finger in and she tried to cooperate by bearing down but it didn’t help and he had to force it in roughly. This time she cried out in pain.

“Cooperate, slave! Bear down and let me in!”

“Sir, I am bearing down, it has never opened up for anyone,” she pleaded, trying to concentrate on breathing short shallow breaths to manage the feeling of being ripped apart.

He pulled out abruptly, causing her to cry out again.

“Well, it will open for me, I can promise you that,” he warned, and gave her a swat across the ass with the crop. She yelped and jumped. He left her side for a moment and when he returned she caught a glimpse of something rubbery and black with a bulb at the end.

“This will get you open,” and after more cold lube she once again felt something pushed against the rim, and pop in just as painfully as his finger. But this object went much deeper, down, down, until she felt more full than she ever had before. It was uncomfortable but not painful any more after the first minute.

“This is an anal dilator. You will wear it each day until I am satisfied a cock can at least force its way in there.”

Oh, god, oh, god…she was scared. There was a black tube hanging down and she saw him pick up the bulb on the end and give a squeeze. Her sphincter was abruptly forced to expand and she screeched in response. Again she started breathing in short breaths trying to ride out the pain.

“We’ll pump this up a bit more in a little while. You will remain here and stay completely silent. Meantime I have other things to do. Come Ryan.”

They walked out together. She wanted to yell at them. They were going to leave her?? Her hands were still bound in front of her and a strap fastened over her legs. She wasn’t going anywhere until they came back.

Minutes passed. The pain did not recede. She hoped it would, prayed that it would – didn’t everyone get used to the feeling after a while? but it showed no sign of backing down. If anything, it might be getting worse. She tried to distract herself by looking around the room, examining what she could see more closely. And what she could see didn’t make her feel any calmer. Canes of every thickness possible. Floggers, and whips, and straps, and crops. She whimpered and dropped her head, realizing it was very likely that many of those would be used on her as long as she was here. Next to look at were gags. Small, huge, ones with holes in them that could be left in for a long long time, and a couple different sizes of penis gags.

Over in one corner there was something she couldn’t figure out. It was like a sawhorse, except the board that laid across was narrow, but rounded, and there was a pole at each end that rose about three feet up. It didn’t give her a good feeling so she looked around for something else to look at. A spasm in her ass put an end to that though. She hissed and tried to relax. She panted and dropped her head as a moan escaped. For the thousandth time she started softly crying.

She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there, but knew it had been longer than an hour or two. She had gone into a trance-like state partly out of boredom, and partly to escape the pain, which had not backed down at all. She woke abruptly when the door opened and Master Thomas walked in. She had a bad feeling and she cringed as he walked over to her without a word and and picked up the bulb to give another squeeze. Liz had never felt such pain and she shrieked.

“Master, please, please, it hurts so bad, there’s something wrong, the pain is not getting better…” she trailed off as she saw him reach for the crop. “No, Master, please I’m sorry please don’t hit me it just hurts, aaahhh!!!” as he landed the first of ten onto her poor welted ass. She struggled and tried to twist to escape it but only succeeded in getting blows to her hips and legs instead, which hurt worse than on her ass. When he stopped she was hyperventilating.

“I said be quiet,” and he turned and left. Liz sank back as far as she could and sobbed until the pain of the crop receded a little – which only drew attention to the sharp searing endless pain inside her ass.

To her surprise and dismay the door opened again just a few minutes later. She curled up as much as she could and trembled, waiting for whatever horrible thing was going to be done with her.

“Liz,” a gentle voice made her look up quickly. It was Master Ryan, thank god. He held a bowl.

“You thirsty?” She nodded. He placed the bowl just between her arms. “Can you reach it there?”

She bent down and got to it easily, using the slurping technique she had figured out this morning. It was cold and delicious. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile of thanks. He reached out and ran his hand over her hair gently, then grabbed the still-sticky strands and rubbed the oatmeal off of them.

“Hang in there. Learning to endure something is one of the hardest lessons for a slave. It won’t last forever, though it feels like it will.” She nodded, feeling a little more encouraged. Funny how a few words could help.

He moved the water to one side where she could still get to it if she needed. She looked up at him with her eyebrows raised, seeking permission to ask a question.

“Master Thomas has decided no talking, and I must respect his orders. Were you perhaps wondering how much longer this will go on?”

She nodded, grateful that he was perceptive.

“A while. That is something else slaves must learn – to accept what is being done without knowing how long until it is over.”

She hung her head, discouraged. There was no letup in the pain. There was no promise of relief. He stroked her head for a moment and left.

Time crawled. She managed to get into the trance-like stage again, only to be abruptly pulled out when Master Thomas came in again. She curled her head up in her arms again and cringed. Without a word he moved the water onto the floor, still in her view but now out of reach. She waited for the inevitable and so was as prepared as she could be when he squeezed the hated bulb again. Though she tried as hard as she could to stay quiet, she involuntarily let out a small shriek of pain. She barely had time to register the movement before the riding crop landed on her ass once more. Again there were ten blows. Again she was sobbing by the time he was done.

It was so not fair! She was trying to obey, she really was.

The time wore on. She longed for more water, but the bowl was still on the floor, and she could only look at it longingly.

She had no idea how long she knelt there, but her legs and arms were completely numb when Master Thomas came in again. Just seeing him made her start to cry now. To her surprise, he released her hands and then pulled off the strap from her legs. And then, mercy of mercies, he let the air out of the dilator. She wept with relief as he pulled it out.

“It’s too bad we can’t leave this in 24 hours a day. I’m afraid we are going to lose some progress overnight.”

Progress? Is that what he called leaving her in excruciating pain all day? She shuddered.

“Time to go back to your cage. Up, up,” as he prodded her with the crop, but her arms and legs refused to cooperate. She managed to sit up on the side, but when she tried to stand her knees gave way and she fell to the floor.

“All right, if you’d rather be on the floor, so be it. You can crawl back to your cage.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath, half angry and half resigned. He must have noticed, because the crop came down on her bruised ass again as he pushed her forward. Her hands and knees didn’t want to cooperate so she half-crawled, and half-fell her way back to the cage the crop doing its vile thing every couple of steps until she wanted to scream. At last she crawled up the step into the cage, welcoming the slightly soft springy floor on her sore knees.

“Present hands.”

She looked up at him, not understanding.

“Your hands. Behind your back. Now.” Nooooo, he was going to tie them up again. She desperately wanted to have her hands free for just a little while, please? She tried to communicate this to him with a look but he ignored it and fastened the restraints, then left abruptly. She suddenly realized how sore her ass was and she fell over on her side trying to get some weight off of it.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there but after a while Master Ryan came in with two bowls. Lunch? She wasn’t sure.

It was dinner time? She had been on that damn table ALL DAY? She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes.

“Yes, you may speak.”

“Master, I have to go to the bathroom really badly, please?” He helped her up gently and led her to the small room on the far side of the cages. She sank down on the toilet in relief. Not only did she have to pee, but being plugged up for that long, well…..things get backed up.

She was embarrassed and humiliated beyond belief. She could do nothing about it, and tears slipped down her face at that realization. Master Ryan was patient, though, and when it was all over, he gently used the small hose with warm water to clean her. “Shower tomorrow? Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes, Sir. I would. Thank you.” she whispered. He led her back to the cage and helped her get down on her knees to eat.

“Hang on.” he said, and reached into his pocket. He gathered her hair up and put a band around it to keep it out of the food. The simple act of courtesy almost undid her, and she quickly bent down to eat to hide her face.

He closed and locked the cage and left her alone.

Down at the office he sat down next to Thomas. “Sir, I’m… concerned… about the anal training. She is in such pain….”

“Son, all slaves play it up to make it seem worse than it really is. She’s tight, but she’ll be fine, and some man will be really happy the first time he gets to sink his dick in there.”

“Isn’t it better to go slowly with this, though? My slaves have always taken at least a week or more and though it wasn’t always pleasant, they never seemed to be in as much pain.”

“Son, all due respect, but you were training slaves for a small house, on a small estate. This place is serious. We have all kinds of men who will be using this girl, and she’d better be ready for it. They won’t be as gentle as I’ve been.”

Ryan tried to stamp down the rising anger he felt at being trivialized. Thomas actually thought that the more important the clients the harsher the training needed to be? Ryan suddenly wasn’t sure he really wanted this job after all. He needed to consider things tonight.

“And son, be careful showing them anything nice. You know, the water, the thing for her hair? It just slows the breaking process down.”

“I’m going to go get dinner,” Ryan abruptly announced, and Thomas was suddenly alone in the office, wondering what the hell was bugging his new assistant.

~ + + + + + ~

The morning dawned gray and rainy, one of those fall days that means cold weather is definitely on its way. Ryan woke up on the cot in the office as usual – while a slave was living in the cells, she was never left in the building overnight alone – and shivered. He wanted to bury himself in the covers just a bit longer. Then he bolted upright. Why was the building so cold? Oh, lord, if he was cold……

He ran to the cages. Sure enough, she was huddled in the corner, trying desperately to keep warm while being stark naked. He quickly opened the cage and went over to her, laying a warm hand on her freezing skin. She looked up at him blearily as though wondering what other hell he had planned for her now. He scooped her up and trotted into the shower room, where he placed her on a bench near the sinks while he turned the water on. Not too hot yet – she would feel the heat intensely at first. He picked her up and brought her into the large oval shower area designed to be used by several people at once, and placed her on a chair near the spray. He hardly noticed he was standing in the water fully clothed. Carefully he turned the spray to her, and slowly some life sprang back into her eyes. Moving behind her, he undid the bindings, and mindful of how much pain she had yesterday when Thomas removed them, he eased them down gently and massaged them in the warm water. He let the water run all over her and she began to shiver, as though just now registering the fact that she had been so cold.

“Warmer?” she whispered. He obliged and she began to make noises of appreciation and undulate to get more of her body into the heat.

He knew she was going to have to be there for a while to get truly warmed up, and there was no point in bringing her back out until the building was warmed up, so once he was sure she wouldn’t fall over he told her he would be right back, and he left to turn up the heat.

Liz scarcely registered the fact that this was the first time since she left the militia base that she had been alone and had use of her hands.

He checked on her a few minutes later and she was sitting in the water as though in rapture. “Want to stay here a bit more?” he asked. She looked at him with wide eyes. “Yes, please, oh thank you, Master!”

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, actually owe you an apology for not turning up the heat last night. I didn’t realize it was getting so cold. The building should be pretty warm in about ten minutes. There is soap over there and you can wash your hair while you wait.”

“Yes, Sir,” she smiled.

The building actually warmed up sooner than he expected, so only five minutes had gone by when he peeked in on her again. She had washed her hair, and was sitting on one of the benches, smiling softly…..

Ryan’s stomach dropped. She had her hand between her legs and by the movements she was making she was most certainly enjoying it very much. Damn damn damn damn! He should not have left her alone!

He sighed. Her eyes flew open and she looked down as though only just then aware of what she was doing. She stared at her sticky hand in horror, then at him. Her mouth formed an “O” but she seemed unable to speak.

He did nothing but stare at her, and after a moment she dropped her gaze, and then slid off the bench to her knees.

“Oh my god, Master, I didn’t even realize what I was doing, I’m so sorry…..” Her voice trailed off. She knew, big time, she had crossed a line. She knelt, trembling, waiting for the world to come crashing down.

“Are you warmed up?” he asked. She looked up in confusion and nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. I want you to clean off your hand and your ….MY… pussy, and then come out and dry off.” He spoke softly, which only made her more afraid, and she scrambled to obey. Two minutes later she stood before him, damp hair hanging around her lowered head, still trembling.

“Please proceed to the training room.”

A little sob of fear escaped her as she quickly walked past the cages and across the hall. Once she entered she paused and waited.

“Go to the center of the room and kneel. We need to talk.”

Talk? Master Thomas would have had her strung up by her thumbs by now, but Master Ryan wanted to talk?

He pulled up a chair in front of her. “Liz, look at me.” She looked him in the eyes – his golden brown eyes that were so angry right now. “The night you arrived, did we make it clear that touching yourself was completely forbidden, and would result in severe punishment?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said softly and closed her eyes.

“Open your eyes. I want you present here and now to see how angry I am with you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and with a start she realized that it was because she had let him down.

“I have a dilemma. And it means I’m going to have to reveal something to you that I shouldn’t. I need to punish you. Let me clarify. It was my responsibility to watch you, and so it is my responsibility to punish you, not Master Thomas’. But…. if I punish you in an obvious way, when he gets back from town later today, he will see it. He will notice it, and he will punish you again.

“I do not happen to agree with that. One disobedience, one punishment, to be decided by the Master who was offended. No arguing, no re-punishing. So. We have to figure something out. How do I punish you effectively without leaving marks to give it away? I could cuff you to the hook in the ceiling and leave you to hang, but as uncomfortable as it is, it doesn’t begin to be really bad until the second or third hour, and I don’t think we have enough time.”

He thought of something and then turned to look at the strange sawhorse in the corner. He looked back at her, and then pronounced her sentence.

“That is a wooden pony. Have you ever seen one before?” She shook her head fearfully. “Come,” he ordered. She tried to stand up but was trembling so bad he had to reach out and help her. He escorted her over to the contraption, and left her standing for a moment while he lowered the cross-bar almost to the floor. He helped her stand over it and then raised each end back up and began adjusting the height. It was about 1½ inches wide with a rounded top and as it raised up and started to take some of her weight she instantly rose on her tiptoes and put her hands on the cross piece to lift herself up slightly.

“This is what happens. I’m going to restrain your arms behind your back, as I should have done in the first place, and then we wouldn’t be here. You stand on your tiptoes to protect your pussy. But after 5 minutes or so, your legs start to tire, and by 10 minutes they are cramping. So you have to let yourself down to rest your legs. Of course, then your pussy is being pushed into the board by your weight, and it is quite painful.”

She wavered and wobbled, her vision getting a little hazy at those words.

“So then, as fast as you can, you push yourself back up, but your legs give out a little sooner this time. You go up and down, and up and down. It becomes impossible to get away from the pain after twenty minutes or so. But it leaves no marks, other than a very tender pussy, which I am sure you will do your best to hide today.” She nodded furiously.

He moved to tie her hands behind her. Suddenly, she was precariously balanced on her toes.

He stepped away and she looked him in the eyes again. “Master? I am sorry I let you down.”

“Me too. You’ll be here for 45 minutes.”

She whimpered at hearing that, and then settled down to survive.

He was exactly right about the time; at five minutes her legs started to tire, so she tentatively let herself down to ease them, only to spring right back up as her weight settled on that tender area. She held out as long as she could, but suddenly her right leg cramped up and she had to set it flat immediately. She came down hard on the board, and screamed as her weight squashed the tender flesh until she shifted slightly to the side to get the cramp under control. By that time her left leg had gotten too weak, and her full weight descended upon the board. Despite the fact that the board didn’t look very narrow, she felt like she was being split in two. It was no more than a couple of seconds before she had to push up again, but her legs were not ready. She forced herself to stay that way for an unbelievable 5 more minutes before they gave way again and she descended upon the area, her pubic bone and the thin skin under it even more tender than when she started.

She was in hell. It was the worst thing she had ever gone through. He was right again about the timing – at about the 20 minute mark the pain was unbearable. She wept and moaned and begged and screamed but there was no relief, no help, just a swirling vibrantly-colored rainbow of unending pain, completely centered in one searing line running through her pussy. She was being slowly split in half and feeling every moment of it as she went up and down and up and down..

Ryan watched from behind her. Truth be told, he hated the pony, unless it was for a ten minutes with a bratty slave who just needed a quick attitude adjustment. He had never put someone on this long and he was in agony seeing her in such torment. But she had broken rule number one and two – Obey, and Don’t Touch, and at the beginning of training the consequences had to be truly horrible so she would never repeat them again. He was pleased that she apologized for letting him down – THAT was what he wanted to see out of training – a desire from the slave to try her best for him.

At the 35 minute mark she was almost incoherent and was losing her balance. He ended the torment. He held her as he let the board down, then picked her weeping form up and carried her over to the bed. He inspected her pussy and despite the incredible pain it was just a little bruised and swollen, not unlike it might be after a session with a crop. He decided he would use that as an explanation to Thomas if needed.

He looked at her semi-conscious form on the bed and thought it might be safe to leave her for a moment while he went to the office and grabbed an ice pack out of the small freezer. She didn’t notice he was gone. He applied the ice pack gently to her pussy and felt her relax as the area was gradually numbed.

She came around after about five minutes and looked up at him, for a moment confused by what was going on. Then the pain in her pussy caught her and she hissed. She rolled over to her side and curled in a ball, while he continued to keep the cold pack on her tormented center.

After a few minutes she rolled back over to him and stared at him with angry eyes.

“I hate you.”

She stared at him for a moment, waiting for his wrath to come crashing down on top of her, but nothing happened. Well, something did happen. He smiled at her.

“I imagine you do right now. But I am not here for you to like or to hate. I am here to be your Master. And love me or hate me, you will obey me. And be respectful,” he added in a warning tone.

A moment passed while she hid her head again. When she responded, he had to lean forward to catch her whispered words.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl.”

They sat silently for a few minutes before she rolled over to look at him again. She tried to speak, caught herself, stuttered and tried again. He knew she was having an internal struggle, and he knew it was important for her to fight it, to question it, and hopefully, eventually, to make peace with it.

“Master, this is so hard….I don’t know how to give control of something like that to someone else…. it’s like giving up part of my body and my soul; the idea that I can’t touch my own body… I don’t know how to even understand it or come to terms with it. I…can’t believe I’m telling anyone else these things,” she hiccuped, “but touching myself has always brought me comfort, it has helped me relax and go to sleep, it has given me something to enjoy even when everything else seemed like crap… how do I let go of that? It’s like asking me to give you my arm or my leg…..” She ran out of words to describe what she didn’t know how to describe.

“Liz, what you have not come to terms with yet, and which is understandable considering this is your third day of being a slave, is that NO part of your body belongs to you any more. That arm and that leg, they already belong to me, to Thomas, to Master Daniel. Your pleasure, your pain, your hunger and thirst, your fatigue, what you say, your reactions…they all belong to US now, not you. You’ve seen that your ass does not belong to you. Those fingers that were in your pussy? They do not belong to you. That pussy certainly does not belong to you. And as much as that arousal brings you pleasure – that no longer belongs to you either. I know these are harsh words to hear. But this is the reality of slavery and it is our job to keep making that clear, over and over again, until you can accept it.” He wanted to promise her that he would help her find peace and contentment eventually with her new place, but he couldn’t promise that as long as he was not in charge of her training.

She rolled back over away from him. After what she had gone through, she had no fight left. She had to surrender, at least for now.

“I’m…I’m.. sorry, Master. I promise I won’t touch my….your ….pussy again.” She felt like she was losing part of herself.

He smiled at her and petted her head. “Good girl.”

~ + + + + + ~

He let her rest for a while in her cage, hands bound in front for a change, though fastened to a short chain that led up to her collar to keep her hands far away from temptation. Perhaps it was best just to stop wishing she had free hands, she reflected, because at least while they were bound in some way there was no risk of a repeat of this morning.

He brought her lunch as Master Thomas had instructed. He absolutely hated making her eat like a dog, especially after overhearing Thomas’ comment to her the first morning about being worthless. Degrading her wasn’t his way…. but for the thousandth time he had to remind himself he was not in charge and he didn’t know everything there was to know about slave training. The punishment he orchestrated this morning had been a huge insubordination of Master Thomas’ authority, and he was loathe to push the envelope any further.

She wouldn’t meet his eyes as he brought the food to her in bowl. She pushed herself to her knees and bent down to eat without enthusiasm. After less than half the bowl of the fairly tasteless stew she sat back and waited for whatever, her head bowed. Her pussy still throbbed, and she winced with pain as she adjusted her position and her heel pushed into the sore bone.

Master Thomas arrived back shortly after. He went into the cabinet that held all the ‘supplies” and came back with the dilator. She trembled but turned and raised her ass without comment. He noticed how subdued she was and commented to Ryan while she quietly waited in position.

“We had a little …disagreement this morning. I cropped her on her pussy. She’s been very quiet since then.” He sensed Thomas was about to take the subject further and held up his hand. “Sir, it was nothing major, and it has been dealt with. An attitude adjustment worked like a charm.”

Thomas nodded and turned back to the dilator. He lubed it and pushed it in quickly. She tensed but stayed quiet. “We gave it three pumps yesterday – I’m sure we lost some ground so we’ll start with two and work up this afternoon.” He picked up the pump and squeezed once. As she did yesterday, she cried out involuntarily. And, as he did yesterday, he swiped her ass with the crop.

“No noise. It doesn’t hurt that bad and I’m tired of you trying to play it up.” He picked up the bulb again and gave it one more big squeeze. This time she managed to hold in her cry, though it cost her every ounce of control she could summon.

“We’re going to start working on basic slave positions today. Please proceed to the training room.”

She didn’t want to be back in there after the morning’s horrors but there was nothing she could do about it. She crawled slowly to her feet and proceeded to the training room, waddling awkwardly.

He released her arms, and once again they fell painfully to her side. Ryan fisted his hands – why was it so necessary to make everything he did to her so painful? She just stood there with her head lowered. Ryan knew she was not being submissive, she was just defeated, and he knew he was the reason, and he felt bad, though she had not given him much choice. If he could have just comforted her as well as he could give her pain…

“I’m going to direct you into a number of different presentation positions. I expect you to have these memorized by tomorrow and expect to see you practicing them any time you are not otherwise occupied. Most of them are on the floor but we will start with a basic ‘attention’.

“Spread your legs a little more than shoulder width.” He snapped the inside of her legs with the crop. She jumped. “Further.” She opened up more. “Hands behind your back, palms to elbows. Head up,” he lifted her chin with the crop, “eyes down.”

“This is one of two positions you will be in often, usually when in the presence of Masters. It allows them to inspect you, and you can stay this way for hours if required. Alternatively, if I say ‘I’m going to present you’ you will move your arms up behind your head, hands together, and wait for me to grab them and lift them straight up.” He snapped the crop against her ass, “do it, don’t wait to be told.” She hastily did as instructed, and he grabbed her wrists with one hand and lifted them over her head. Her body was stretched out, breasts lifted, looking like a tempting morsel being offered up.

“Ryan, please come and show her what you might do if I offer her to you like this.”

Ryan approached her, her eyes still downcast. He lifted her chin but her eyes never followed it up. He gently took her nipples in his hands and softly started rolling them in between his giant fingers. He heard her sharp intake of breath. He increased the pressure, wanting to get some kind of reaction to his presence, but he was rewarded with nothing more than a squeak. After a moment, his hand strayed down to her pussy, which was dry, and oh so tender. He rubbed it gently anyway, still trying for a reaction, when to his dismay he heard, “don’t, please.” He felt Thomas’ grip stiffen at the words, and Ryan’s heart sank. Another disobedience that couldn’t be ignored, though he understood why she had said it, and now she was going to be punished. Again.

Motioning Ryan to step back and still holding firmly to her hands above her head, he moved around to be slightly in front of her, and without warning he brought the crop up on the underside of her breast. She screamed and tried to twist away but his grip was iron. The crop came up again, this time under the other breast, and again she screamed and tried to twist.

“How dare you say ‘no’!” he hissed angrily. The crop came up again and again until the bottoms of her breasts were covered with bright red welts and she was gasping for breath.

“Thomas!” Ryan said more sharply than he meant to. “Perhaps we should give her a chance to apologize.”

Thomas lowered the crop down. He, too, was breathing hard. He seemed to collect himself though, and addressed the still-gasping Liz.

“Apologize to your Master for refusing him. Now.”

It took a minute for Liz to collect herself enough to form coherent thought. Eventually, they heard, “I apologize, Masters.”

“Again. And say what you are apologizing for.”

“I apologize for telling you not to touch my….your…pussy, Master Ryan.”

“Thank you,” Ryan returned. “Let’s try it again,” and without waiting for her acknowledgment, he put his hand back between her legs and rubbed gently again. She jerked slightly with pain, but did not make a sound.

“Next position,” Master Thomas announced without delay. “Down on your knees.” She lowered herself, still awkwardly because of the dilator, and settled back on her heels.

“Spread your knees,” and he flicked her thighs with the crop until she adjusted. Not satisfied, he flicked her again, and again, until little red welts were clearly visible on her now widely-spaced knees. “Hands behind your back.” She obeyed.

“This is the other position you will be in when in the presence of Masters, unless you are actively serving them or performing a task. It is a position you might be in for several hours, so we will practice that endurance later.”

“Now, lean forward and place your arms straight out in front, and raise your ass up. Higher,” and he flicked the crop to add another red mark to the dozens of purple and red bruises still yet to fade. She let out a tiny screech in surprise, which earned her another, harder swat, one that she anticipated as soon as she made a noise, and she kept quiet.

“This is the punishment position. You present yourself to master with your ass raised and your back bared to await his whip. This is a position I expect to find you in a lot.”

Ryan gritted his teeth again, as the criticism registered in Liz and he noticed her back sagging down. She truly was trying, he knew, and the worst thing that could be done is to tell her that she’s not trying hard enough.

“This is also called usage position, when the knees are spread as far they can be. This is a favorite position of Masters to use their slaves in.”

“Roll over to your back.” She did, keeping her eyes closed to avoid having to look at either of them. “Legs straight, arms at your side. This is prone position. Now put your feet flat on the floor with legs spread and lift your pussy up and present it to me.”

This time she did look up at him, her eyes full of fear. The crop snapped down on her thigh. “Lift it, slave. No hesitation.” She slowly brought her hips off the floor, bringing her extremely tender and vulnerable pussy closer to him, and the crop.

“This is raised prone. The next one is full presentation. Put your hands on your knees and draw them forward and as wide as you can, so that you are as open as you possibly can be.”

Ryan could see the fear in her eyes at the thought of spreading herself so wide in front of Thomas and he intervened.

“Slave, you have nothing to fear IF you obey quickly. I promise.” The last few words were said a little softer as he tried to calm her. Thomas flashed him a look of annoyance, but she had quickly pulled herself into position perfectly and he could find no fault.

“All right. Let’s see how much you remember. Prone!” he called out and she straightened her legs flat out on the floor.

“Knees!” and she was on her knees, spreading her legs as far as she could…and he snapped the inside of her thigh anyway. She struggled to get even another inch spread. He seemed satisfied.

“Attention!” She scrambled to her feet.

“I want to present you!” As her arms went over her head she began trembling, but he let them go.

“Punishment!” And she fell back down on her hands and knees, raising her ass in the air and placing her arms in front of her. There was a moment of silence and then he picked up the bulb and gave another pump. She cried out and started moaning in a soft continuous wail, but she didn’t move.

“Silence!” as the crop came down yet again, and again, and again….

“Raised prone!” It was more difficult to turn over and settle on her bum with the new pain, but she fearfully offered him her pussy.

“All right. You will continue practicing these positions on your own for the next 15 minutes. After that, you will go into kneel with your head bowed, and you will stay there for the rest of the afternoon. I will be by now and then to keep things interesting. If I do not feel your legs are spread wide enough I will crop your pussy.”

What the hell did ‘interesting’ mean? I’m going to be here for the next….three hours? She couldn’t, she just couldn’t. But she did. She had no choice. She moved around in various combinations of positions, calling them out in her head, and when the time was up, she settled on her knees, spread so wide she felt her tendons start to spasm. She went into herself as she prepared to spend the afternoon like this.

A bit later, the door opened, and Master Thomas came over to her. She didn’t move though she was already aching. He bent down in front of her.

“I have a little gift to keep the afternoon interesting.” He played with her nipples for a moment to get them to stand up, and then quickly applied a clamp, with teeth, to her left nipple. She hissed and whimpered but held still. He quickly did the same with the other nipple, and then left. Now she had three areas of pain. Two were new sensations – there was a zing straight to her clit and in spite of herself she knew she was getting wet. She wanted to play with herself. Oh, god, she was suddenly so aroused. And she didn’t dare. She had learned her lesson this morning, and had no doubt the room was on camera anyway.

And endless time later, he came back in. Her nipples were throbbing, though the pain had decreased. But it would not stay that way. He produced something else which he quickly attached to the clamps, and let it fall. She shrieked as the weights reached bottom and yanked her poor nipples down.

“Punishment position!” he barked.

“No, no, Master please, it just hurt so much…,.” she pleaded even as she moved forward onto her hands and knees. The weights on her nipples rocked back and forth, eliciting another muffled screech. She raised up her ass and lowered her head and arms, already overwhelmed with pain, and he brought the crop down on her ass and she fell over to her side crying, her nipples still in hell.

“Back on your knees! Now!” and he brought the crop down on top of the clamps attached to her nipples. She didn’t think they could hurt more, but white-hot needles of pain shot through them. She scrambled to her knees, the weights swinging as she got herself into position, not bothering to try to wipe the tears rolling down her face. He stayed in front of her until she was still, then went around behind her and pumped the bulb up not once, but twice. Liz howled with pain.

He walked out and left her there in her misery for the rest of the afternoon. She had no problem holding still; anything else sent waves of pain through her whole body. At least her hands were free for once.

She tried to think of home and friends and family and the life she had led only a couple of months ago and found she could hardly remember.

“Father…..,” she whispered…..”I have nothing left inside to hold onto….what do I do now?”

~ + + + + + ~

Ryan rolled the crystal glass in his hands and stared at something only he could see.

“Hey there – you OK?” ventured Michael, seated in the other stuffed chair in his office.

Ryan took a moment before answering.

“How long has Thomas been working here?” he asked.

“Uh, well, long before me. I’m pretty sure he was here when Daniel’s father was still Head. Why?”

Ryan hesitated. Saying almost anything would reveal his hand, but this was his best friend, and more importantly Michael was a man with a level head who did not excite easily.

“I…have a few concerns about the slave training.”

“Like what?” Michael sat up abruptly.

Ryan sighed. “I am probably way off base here. The last thing I want to do is tarnish the reputation of a loyal friend of Daniel’s.”

“I understand. But I would like you to tell me what concerns you…even if it ends up being wrong in the end.”

Ryan knew he owed Michael some information. Perhaps Michael could even fill in the blanks.

“When I trained the slaves on my father’s estate…..I never found it necessary to break them first. Most of what I have done has actually been to help the woman slip herself into the role, not force her into it. For instance, when I’ve done something to her that she has to endure, if I give her encouragement during it, and at the end tell her what a good girl she is, she will try even harder the next time. I have disciplined and punished when I needed to, but it wasn’t needed all that much. And I think I did a damn good job of training them. I’ve never had one turn around and seriously rebel, or try to escape.”

Michael nodded; he had seen the slaves at Ryan’s father’s house, and they were definitely obedient, but they also laughed and when they were alone they chattered to each other like magpies. There wasn’t a sullen one in the bunch. That was why Michael had recommended Ryan to Daniel.

Ryan continued. “Ok, see, the other night when Liz rolled over when I tried to touch her ass….I didn’t need to shout or yell or hit her with the crop. All I had to do was look at her until she realized what she needed to do and got back into position on her own. Hell, even you do it – when she fought you before getting whipped, you didn’t manhandle her – you just held her and waited her out, knowing eventually she would run out of steam. And she did.

“Shit, I don’t know. I’m just the apprentice, and he’s been doing this for decades. Daniel’s never complained, that I’ve heard, about how he does it. I really haven’t gotten a feel for the other slaves here and what their training and obedience and attitude are.”

Now it was Michael’s turn to look thoughtfully into his glass. “It varies. We have a couple who are clearly content – Greta for instance – Daniel’s tried to free her many times and she refuses. There are a couple of girls who are clearly biding their time but doing the best they can. And there is one who….well, I am just waiting for her to try to escape. I don’t know what to do with her, and Thomas seems to think the answer is to whip her severely for every infraction.”

“The more you whip a slave the less effective it is. If you are truly having to whip them often, there is a bigger problem. But that’s how he is handling Liz right now.”

“And you don’t think he needs to.”

Ryan shook his head. “I have a sense about her. I think slavery wouldn’t be her first choice, but she has a very strong desire to serve and to please.” A thought occurred to him. “You probably don’t know that the night she arrived, he punished her again after we left Daniel’s study. Pretty harshly in fact. I spoke to him after he was done but got the brush-off, and you know since he’s my boss…” His voice trailed off.

“Shit. We promised her the slate had been cleaned. So much for building any trust.” Michael observed morosely.

“He’s punished her harshly a number of times, like when she cries out in pain after he pumps up the dilator. Every time she moans or whimpers he beats her. He keeps telling me she’s trying to get sympathy, but, dammit, she’s in real pain. Her ass is a mess of bruises, almost none of them for true disobedience. And he never says a nice word to her.”

“And you think he should?”

“Goddammit, yes! The difference between slave who surrenders because she gives up in despair and a slave who submits because she finds contentment in the role is not how hard you can beat her! It is finding out that she can endure and learn and submit and not lose herself and take pride in the pleasure she can give to others. And that comes with encouragement, and praise, and seeing them as people, not as objects to break, even as you teach them to embrace the pain and endure the unendurable.”

“Let me ask you this just for argument’s sake. Are you being too lenient because you feel he is too harsh?”

Ryan snorted. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about this morning, but Michael needed to know he wasn’t a pushover.

“I doubt she’d say that. This morning I left her alone for a minute – bad idea, I know…. and when I came back she had her hand between her legs. I don’t think she even realized it. But after spending 35 minutes on the horse I don’t think she’ll do it again.”

“Ouch. I would hope not. I can’t imagine her wanting to put her hand anywhere near that area for a couple of days.” A thought occurred to him. “Are you worried Thomas will re-punish her?”

Ryan didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t tell him, did you? In fact, you chose the horse because it leaves no marks?”

Ryan nodded. Michael had always been perceptive – it’s what made him so good at his job. “It’s not good for our working relationship, I know. But I’m not sure I can continue working with him, to be honest.”

“You’re thinking of quitting?”

“Yeah, I am. I don’t see any point in being here if his way of training is so different than mine.”

“I would really hate to see you go. I pushed hard to get you here because I felt, and I still feel, that you are one of the best trainers I’ve ever seen – and for exactly the reasons you’ve been arguing about.”

Ryan was silent.

Michael cleared his throat. “Is there anything specific I can bring to Daniel right now? Unfortunately all we have right now is a difference in philosophies.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ryan sighed. “I’m just going to keep quiet for now and do what I can, and hope that he doesn’t go over the line, whatever that is. I already see her giving in to despair and I don’t want to lose her to it.

~ + + + + + ~

Ryan walked back to the slave house, stopping to look at the starry sky above as Liz had done the night she arrived. Thousands of stars pricked holes in the velvet black of the sky, with the Milky Way looking like a soft veil leading off into forever. It could make a man feel very small and humble if he stopped to contemplate his place in the universe.

He let himself back in the small building, feeling the quiet of nighttime settling over the place. Not that it was very busy during the day – at its peak, the building could house as many as fifteen slaves in various stages of training – two in each cage, one in each small cell, and four upstairs in the dormitory, but now it held only a lonely one.

He was terribly thankful that they hadn’t had to figure out what to do with twenty, or nineteen even, after that pregnant girl had been sent home. Daniel and Michael and Thomas had argued back and forth about making arrangements with other families with estates large enough to have and train slaves, but truthfully the idea of letting go of control of the women who were his responsibility had weighed heavily on Daniel. The whole reason to keep the hostages as slaves was to considerably increase the pressure on their government to ransom them to pay for reparations and the three men had truly been taken aback when it looked like Palm might leave all nineteen of them in Alaine for two years.

Thomas was finishing some paperwork and looked up with a smile. “I figured you and Michael would be talking until dawn like Michael tells me you used to.”

Ryan chuckled. “That, sir, was in college, where every idea deserved at least an eight hour argument for and against. Somehow the idea of staying up until dawn now just makes me tired.”

“It’s called responsibility – makes you very tired. And I am old enough to be very grateful that you, dear boy, are the junior one who gets to sleep here while I toddle back to my warm soft bed every night.”

Ryan motioned to the camera. “What’s she doing now?” She was lying on her side with her face away from the camera. The anal dilator hung out of her small hole like a grotesque black tail. Her ass was covered with red marks, but Ryan couldn’t tell if they were new or not. He noted that her hands were not behind her back as usual and commented on that.

“Yeah, well, I pumped the dilator up another notch tonight and she really didn’t like that. Tried to grab it with her hands back there, so I fastened them to a chain from her collar in front. Had to give her ten more with the crop for disobedience.”

Ryan winced internally. Trying to remove something like the dilator was certainly grounds for punishment, but she had been punished so much today for things he found really questionable.

Thomas bid him goodnight and left for his room up at the House. In a bit, Ryan would try to fold his 6ft 4in. frame onto the small cot that was kept in the office. But he wanted to check something first.

He stepped quietly into the cage room and walked up behind the prone form of Liz. To his surprise she was not sleeping, but lying very quiet and obviously concentrating on breathing in and out while tears ran silently down her face.

“Liz?” he said softly, not wanting to scare her.

“Yes, Master?” He could hear discouragement in her voice.

“You OK?” What the fuck kind of question was that? he asked himself. She’d been held hostage, enslaved, had the crap beaten out of her, and had something shoved up her ass that hurt, and he had asked if she was OK?

“It hurts Master. It hurts so bad. It’s supposed to get better as time passes but it’s not. It hurts just as much now as the moment it first went in.”

He was at a loss. She was right; the idea was that it got pumped up a little, it hurt, the hurt eased, then at some point the dilation was increased again. He opened the cage and knelt behind her, looking closely. Thomas was increasing the dilation way too fast with Liz. If Liz were his slave, Ryan might have taken weeks to gradually, incrementally, open her tight little hole, but Thomas was sticking to the schedule he had always gone by, which was a couple of days.

He laid his hand gently on her hip and she stiffened. “Shhh…its okay.” He spent a minute rubbing and stroking the hip, at a loss for what to do. Just like interfering with a punishment, a man, or a master, never interfered with another Master’s training if the slave wasn’t his own. Decreasing the dilator was a sure ticket to getting his ass booted off the estate, and that wouldn’t help her at all.

He had an idea. He couldn’t relieve the pain….but perhaps he could distract her for a bit.

“Liz, I can’t do anything that’s against what Master Thomas has done. But I can do something else. Let me help you stand up.” And he lifted her from the floor as though she no heavier than a butterfly and set her on her feet. Her hands were curled up under her neck, attached to the collar with almost no slack. All right, he would change one thing. Call it following the spirit of the law instead of the letter. He pulled some lengths of chain off the wall behind her, about 18 inches each. One by one he unhooked her cuffs from her collar and fastened the chain between them. She could now bring her arms down to waist height.

“Thank you, Master.” She looked at him gratefully.

“Being at your waist is only temporary I’m afraid, until I bring you back here to go to sleep. I’ll have to shorten them again; they can’t be left long enough for you to grab anything. But not as short, I promise.”

“Yes, Master.” He led her out of the cell. Walking with the damned dilator in was humiliating; she was forced to waddle painfully while the tubing swung back and forth like a tail. They made it to the office, where he paused to grab the blanket off his bed. To her astonishment he drew the blanket around her, then turned and led her out the front door. As the door closed behind them, she looked up in confusion. “Where are we going, Master?”

Cindy must be kept occupied. There’s plenty of sucking and fucking for her to do but there’s so much time in the day that I need to invent ways to keep her busy. She often finds herself working away at pointless tasks and of course, if she doesn’t perform well enough, she must be punished.

My toy was wearing a single sleeve armbinder which locked her arms behind her back, making them useless to her and, incidentally, displaying her naked breasts quite nicely. She was also holding a large butt plug in her bottom. This was a result of her crying earlier when we re-watched news reports of her disappearance that I had recorded back when I made her mine. Every time someone said “Cindy Laine” I had replaced the audio with a recording of Cindy’s own voice saying “worthless cunt”.

She had been sitting on my lap while I played with, pinched and sucked on her tits. Seeing her family pleading for her safe return had set her off so I made her go get the big plug then insert and remove it over and over while we finished watching. Every time she pushed it up her butt she repeated the phrase,

“Slave girls don’t have mommies or daddies.”

That kept the tears flowing and when the video was finished, Cindy knelt in front of my chair and sucked me off, big wet drops still rolling down her cheeks. After she swallowed my gift I allowed her to lay her head on my thigh, my cock still in her mouth of course. I brushed my hand over her hair which seems to soothe her and she eventually calmed down.

I had placed a stack of one hundred bricks next to the wall of the playroom. Each one had a wire tied around it and a small loop on top. It had taken a while to prepare this. The bricks were stacked in a pyramid with space between each brick for the loops of the lower level to stick up. The things I do for Cindy.

“Sweetie, I need those bricks moved. Would you help me with that?”

“Yes, master.”

“Thank you, dear. Go to the punishment room and get the clover clamps for your nipples.”

“But my arms are tied, sir.”

“Well you’ll just have to figure it out you stupid whore.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sometimes it’s like she’s not even trying. The clover clamps are connected by a chain about 18 inches long. She came back holding the chain in her mouth.

“Good, now go put on your black high heels, honey.”

The shoes she stepped into were black and shiny, about four inches tall. Cindy’s had plenty of practice in high heels but these slow her down some. I locked the heels on her feet using the built in straps so I wouldn’t have to worry about her cheating while I was gone.

“Face me and bend over at the waist. Jiggle them for me. Good, now hold still.”

I secured the clamps to her sensitive nipples and adjusted them several times, making my slave grimace and bite her lower lip. I’ve never found clover clamps that hold on tight enough so I always keep rubber bands wrapped around the prongs that do the pinching. These would practically pull her nipples off before letting go.

“Jiggle them for me again. That’s nice, you can stop now and stand up straight.”

I clipped a hook onto the chain between the clamps. It slid down to the lowest point on the chain and hung with the hook pointing away from Cindy.

“You look fantastic. We need to get some pictures for your scrapbook.”

She really did look amazing and I took several photos of her dressed up in her heels, armbinder, collar, nipple clamps and of course the large butt plug.

“Enough posing, slave. Time to get to work. You’re going to pick up each brick with the hook between your tits and carry it to the other wall, inside the area marked out with tape. I want them stacked neatly. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”

“Good, I know you will. Now, I don’t want you getting lazy so I’m going to give you a time limit. I want those bricks moved in an hour. For every brick not moved you will receive a punishment. I’ve written it down on this index card and I’m leaving it on the table. You can flip it over to see what will happen or, if you’re smart, use that time to move bricks.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cindy spoke with a worried look on her face. She knows that sometimes I give her a reasonable task and other times an impossible task in order to punish her.

“Since I love you so much, I’ll coach you through the first brick and it won’t even count towards the hour.”

“Thank you so much master!”

“Get your ass over to the wall.”

As Cindy tottered over to the bricks and bent over to hook and lift the first one I kindly encouraged her with the riding crop. The frown and pouty lip she gave while taking the weight on her nipples was priceless. Smack, smack!

“Get your worthless ass over there, cunt!”

I prodded her towards success with the crop while she continued to make pathetic whining sounds. After about 3 minutes from her start, she set the brick in the defined area and I gave her a particularly vicious blow and said,

“That won’t be fast enough, sweetheart. I guess you’ll find out the punishment whether you lift the card or not.”

I waked to the table next to my chair and pressed start on the timer. As it started down from 60 minutes, Cindy scampered back to the stack of bricks. I went upstairs to get some work done.

I checked in on my toiling slave from time to time over the video system. She would hustle over to the stack of bricks but once she had one on the hook she moved much more slowly. The swaying weight must have hurt her delicious nips quite a bit. Even watching by camera I could tell they were being stretched towards the floor.

When I came back down, she was failing miserably, much to my delight. I watched most of a circuit and when the timer sounded I stopped her as she was carrying a brick to the far wall.

“Hold it there, slave.”

I counted the bricks in the destination since there were clearly fewer there and found thirty had been moved.

“That’s 70 bricks you didn’t move, slave. What did you do, take a nap? Tell me, what do you think the punishment will be?”

Cindy was pleading with her eyes but that day I was going to hurt her sexy little body and nothing she could do would change that.

“A stroke for each brick I didn’t move, master?”

“Bad guess, darling, but a good idea. Wait there.”

I went into the punishment room and came back with a rope and a cane. I tied the end of Cindy’s single sleeve to an eyebolt in the ceiling, forcing her to bend over in a painful strappado. I instructed her to count and thank me for each stroke then I drew back and slammed the cane into her smooth white bottom. Jerking forward pulled on her arms and set the brick hanging from her nipples swinging. Still, she managed to obey,

“One. Thank, you sir.”

After thanking me for the twentieth blow, Cindy asked,

“Master, will you please take the brick off? My nipples hurt so much.”

“Okay, sweetheart, but we’ll have to change the rules a little. Now kiss me while I take off your pretty clamps.”

I squatted down in front of her and she lifted her head, pressing her soft lips against mine. As I made out with my gorgeous slave I reached down to her breasts and removed both clamps at the same time. I pinched and pulled her nipples as the fresh blood flowed back into them. Our mouths never parted as she groaned. Finally pulling away I told her,

“Your lazy ass has taken the punishment so far but it was your tits that failed to move all the bricks so they need some attention too, slut. From now on, instead of thanking me, you will count and then tell me if you want the next one on your titties or ass.”

Cindy chose to take most of the last 50 on her ass but whenever I felt like beating her hanging breasts I would lay several strokes in a row on the same spot until she elected to take some on her lovely chest.

By the end of the caning I was rock hard. When I presented my penis front of her face she got straight to work. After enjoying her attentions for a few minutes I backed up and ordered her to turn around. I took the plug out and explained,

“I need to use your asshole, slave. Your best friend needs another hole to stay cozy and warm in. Turn back to me.”

I slid the plug into her reluctantly opened mouth. Her bright blue eyes were brimming with tears. Turning her again I penetrated her tight shit hole.

“That’s wonderful slave. Squeeze me in your nasty asshole. Oh yes, good girl. I can tell why your best friend likes it so much in here.”

I moved in and out of Cindy’s butt relishing the fact that I was taking my pleasure from something that used to be so privately hers. I could almost feel the shame burning inside her.

I pulled myself out and ordered her around. I took the plug from her mouth, spun her, put it back in its place, spun her and allowed her to suck me. The plug and I made so many circuits between her ass and mouth she must have been getting dizzy.

When I was ready to cum I pushed into her recently caned ass, reached around and cupped her tits and finally filled her with my semen.

“Thank you, slave. That was nice. Let’s get your friend back where it belongs. There, now look what a mess you’ve made on my cock. You’re such a dirty thing. I don’t know how you can put it in your mouth right after anal sex like this.”

After Cindy had washed me spotless I untied her armbinder from the ceiling. I took her to the bathroom and cleaned her up. Walking back into the play room I asked her,

“Well, honey, shall we take a look at the card and see what your punishment will be?”

“But you just punished me, master!”

“That was your idea, remember? Now it’s time for your real punishment.”

“Oh, I can’t take any more, master! Please. Please no more. No more punishment, please?”

I took her in my arms and held her while she wept into my shoulder. I stroked her hair while I spoke.

“I know you can’t take any more, dear. But you’re going to have to. You were a bad slave and you must be punished. Now let’s see what the card says.”

I held the card out so she could read it and the poor thing just collapsed into a sobbing puddle of slave girl. Her sentence was 5 minutes riding the wooden pony for each brick not moved. I love the wooden pony but I only subject Cindy to it on rare occasions. I wouldn’t want it to lose any of its magic in my mind with overuse. This would only be her second experience with it.

The first time I asked Cindy to suck me clean after fucking her ass, she had refused. I put her on the wooden pony and after riding for 15 minutes she was begging to wash my cock. I kept her on for 15 more minutes while making her describe in detail how she wanted to taste her own filth and please me. That innocent young girl desperately pleading for such degrading and horrible treatment is a very special memory.

I knew she wouldn’t be able to walk herself to the dreaded torture devide so I attached a leash to her collar. I half dragged her on her hands and knees to the punishment room, telling her,

“Stop your blubbering, you brought this on yourself. You’ll have plenty of time to cry during your pony ride.”

My wooden pony is a rod, one inch in diameter and three feet long. At each end it is clamped to a vertical pole which reaches from floor to ceiling. The clamps can be loosened to slide up or down the poles so the wooden rod can be adjusted to the proper height.

I lifted Cindy up and placed her straddling the wooden pony. It was a few inches below her slit. I shackled her ankles to the short chains connected to rings set into the floor, keeping her feet shoulder-width apart. The single-sleeve was once again tied to the ceiling. Her shoulders must have been aching but her tits stood out so wonderfully. Additionally, pulling her arms up behind her forced her to lean forward, ensuring a good ride.

I lifted the rod into the cleft of her womanhood and locked it in place. Even with the heels on she had to raise herself up. Standing as high as she could, there was no pressure on her precious vagina. If she relaxed her calves, her weight would be placed mainly on her clit, thanks to her bent forward posture. In the relaxed position, the heels would provide some support, preventing permanent damage even if she were all the way down on them for a long time.

“Oh god! You can’t leave me here, sir! How could you do this to another person?”

“Silly cunt, you’re not a person. You’re a set of holes to be used. That’s how I can do this to you. Since you’ve forgotten your place and questioned me I’m going to round your punishment up to an even six hours.”

As I spoke, I set a large digital timer, started it and hung it on the wall where Cindy could see it. I also found her a pretty pink ball gag. I stuffed it into her beautiful, tear-stained face and buckled it tightly behind her head. Then I stood back a waited for the ride to begin.

Poor Cindy was tired from all her fun earlier and it was only a few minutes before her legs were unable to hold her up. With a tortured groan from behind her gag, she used the last of her strength to lower herself slowly onto the pony. The pain was written on her adorable face. This was going to be hell for her.

She soon found the energy to raise herself off the cruel rod again but she couldn’t last long. The second time she dropped onto the pony she shifted herself slightly to avoid more pain in the same place that had been hurt before. It was the beginning of a beautiful process in which Cindy would torture her own pussy as thoroughly as possible, hurt joining hurt until it was one big source of agony.

“Have a good ride, sweetie. I’ll be back to check on you.”

I left her to suffer alone for a couple hours. When I returned her entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She was rising and falling more frequently now, her legs spent but the resting position unbearable. I stood next to my slave, lightly resting one hand on her abdomen and the other on the curve of her ass. Her body moved up and down between my hands, continuing to ride the wooden pony. My hand moved gently over the welts on her sexy behind.

Looking over at me, her eyes begged for mercy but found no reprieve. Cindy had managed to lean back a bit, choosing to wrench her shoulders further in order to protect her clitoris. It was all part of the torture as this only served to expose the lower parts of her womanhood to the pony’s effects.

I decided that her clit had been given enough of a break. I brought over two steel rods, a quarter inch in diameter, 18 inches long and a pair of steel rings. The rings just fit both rods so that when the rods were parallel with a ring at each end, there was no space between them. With just one ring in place, I was able to separate the bars into a narrow, sideways “V” shape. Situating the rods in front of Cindy’s tits, I captured both nipples between then and closed down.

Her sweet buds were crushed as I forced the ends together and put the ring in place. There was now a narrow space between the rods where the nipples held them apart. For her part, Cindy held fairly still, not that she had much choice, but what had been a constant groaning became a full-throated scream from behind her ball gag.

I secured a heavy wire around the bars, in between her clamped tips. As I drew the wire towards the vertical post in front of her, she shook her head pleadingly. I calmly returned her stare and nodded. I pulled her forward by her nipples until she was back in the position I wanted, hurting the sensitive nub between her thighs that gives other girls so much pleasure.

Bending down to her I kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered,

“Look, honey, it’s been two and a half hours. You’re almost halfway done.”

I walked away again, leaving Cindy to entertain herself on the wooden pony.

After she had been riding for a couple more hours I returned.

“I’ve been thinking, slave. It wasn’t very fair of me to make you wear those heels while you worked. They must have slowed you down and been very uncomfortable. Well, I can’t change what happened but I can correct the situation now.”

To Cindy’s dismay, I knelt down and removed her high heels. Now when she came down from her tip-toes, there was absolutely no support for her legs. With a pat on the ass, I left her again.

I got back to the punishment room with 30 minutes left on the timer. I expected to see my slave broken, just slumped forward and unresponsive. To my amazement, she was still as upright as possible. I observed her for a few minutes and, god knows how, she wasn’t riding anymore. Her legs were locked in that tension-filled position which kept her off the wooden pony.

I was certainly impressed but I wasn’t about to allow her to avoid the rest of her torture. I released the chains of her ankle cuffs from the floor and fastened them together around the vertical post behind her. With her legs pulled back from under her, there was no escaping the unrelenting rod pressing into her snatch.

This brought about a wonderful reaction from my slave. She shook her head as if she could deny the pain and screamed her pleas at me, spittle flying from around her gag. In her desperation she even thrashed her entire body as much as her bonds would allow but this must have made things worse as she quickly stilled herself.

I brought the master’s chair into the punishment room. I sat down and put my feet up on Cindy’s whipping bench to view the rest of her wooden pony ride and enjoyed her suffering while the timer ran down. At times like this I wish I had a second slave to suck my cock. While I thought about how difficult my situation was, Cindy cried her eyes out. At the end of her ordeal I went to her and said,

“It’s over, slave. All we need to do is get some pictures for you to remember the experience by.”

I put a small, pink cowgirl hat on her and took several shots. The agony etched on her face was gorgeous. She was clearly trying to communicate something to me. Removing her gag from her slobber covered lips unleashed a torrent of pleas,

“Oh master, please let me off! It hurts so bad, please!. The timer stopped, it’s time to let me off sir, the timer, master, the clock!”

“Sh sh sh, I know sweetie but I just need a good picture of your worthless, lazy ass riding the pony before I take you off. Give me a good smile, dear.”

Cindy sobbed and pulled her cheeks back in a pathetic attempt at a smile. I took several pictures but her lips stretched back in pain ruined her usually charming smile. I told her,

“Slave, you need to show me how much you love your pony and give me a real smile or you can just stay there. Is that what you want?”

“Oh sweetie, I want to let you off of your pony but I need a pretty picture first. Give me a good smile!”

Poor Cindy actually managed a decent smile. I took several pictures, each capturing the forced expression and the suffering in her eyes. After a minute or so I told her,

“See, you just have to cooperate and you’re done with the punishment.”

I removed her restraints and squeezed her tight buttocks in my hands as I lifted her clear of the wooden pony. She let out a sigh and went slack.

She was nearly unconscious as I carried her upstairs. There was a hospital bed in the guest room and I laid her limp body down, securing her arms and legs with locking straps. I started an IV to replenish her fluids and provide some nutrition. There was a pain-killer as well.

She would need a few weeks of recovery. During that time she would not be tortured and her only responsibility would be getting me off. I planned to make good use of her battered pussy, starting first thing the next morning. For now though, I pulled up the blankets, brushed a few stray hairs from her face and kissed my sleeping slave on the forehead.

They approached a small building that was hard to see in the dark, and waited while Thomas fitted a key into the lock. The door swung open towards them and he led the trio into a dim hallway. On the right she registered a large window, looking into what must be an office. The hall dead-ended at a series of small doors that looked like cells. They turned left, and a few steps later turned right. Opening up on her left side was a large room with …… Liz sucked her breath in….three cages. She closed her eyes, knowing without being told that one of those would be her home for a while. To her surprise, however, they kept going almost to the end of the hall to a door on the right.

“This is the training room,” he announced. He opened the door and started to guide her in, when she caught sight of some of the things in there. Rows of whips and floggers and canes, and a St. Andrews cross, and a spanking bench, and she didn’t miss the manacles on the wall. She tried to turn and run but was shoved roughly inside. She started to protest.

“Shut up. You are not to speak unless you are asked a direct question. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she remembered to say, trembling. Master Ryan followed them inside and closed the door.

Master Thomas pulled her over to the wall where the manacles hung on the brick and pushed her against it, her breasts pressed hard against the cold rough surface. He fastened each wrist above her head and then spread her legs and fastened them as well. She was whimpering with fear. “Sir, pplease, sir…” she begged softly.

Ryan spoke up. “Thomas, may I speak to you for a moment outside?”

“We will speak when I am done. Watch closely, young man, and see how a disobedient slave is broken down.” He turned his attention back to her.

“Master Ryan may feel he has punished you enough, but I don’t. You need to learn that any disobedience will result in punishment by me personally in addition to any punishment you get from anyone else.”

Neither of them saw Master Ryan’s grimace.

“Please, Sir, I’ve learned my lesson oh god please don’t hit me any more…aggghhhhhh!” He landed what had to be a cane across her ass and her world exploded. As bad as the belt was, this was far worse. She felt the shards of pain land from her ass down the backs of her legs almost to her knees. She descended into a dark place filled with misery and tried to hide.

When he was done, he left her there. She sobbed, again, as it seemed like she had been doing for days. She didn’t know how long she hung there, only that as the pain receded she became aware that she had to pee. She held out as long as she could but was more terrified of his anger if she peed on the floor than if she called out.

“Sir…I have to pee. Really badly…sir?” she called softly in the empty room. A few minutes later she heard the door open.

“You’ll just have to hold it for another 30 minutes. Don’t you dare let go.”

She longed to be able to squeeze her legs shut but the manacles prevented that. She held on desperately, the minutes dragging by endlessly, the pain in her bladder increasingly competing with the pain in her mangled butt.

At last she was aware of Master Ryan releasing her, but her whole world had narrowed to keeping her bladder shut and she barely realized when he sat her down on a toilet until her ass made contact with the seat. After holding it for so long it actually took a force of will to let go, and then she peed and peed and peed, and then her bladder spasmed at the end and there was more pain. Finally it was over. She took a deep breath and stood up to face him, keeping her eyes low, and waited. He bound her hands again behind her back, led her inside a cage, and attached a short chain from her wrists to the wall. He gently helped her down to the floor and was trying to get her to lay down, but she shook him off and leaned back against the bars of the cell, ignoring the pain in her bottom and closing her eyes. The clang of the door shutting behind him was one of the loneliest sounds she had ever heard but she had no more tears left to cry.

~ + + + + + ~

It surprised her that she slept as well as she did considering that her arms were beyond cramped and her butt was a constant dull ache by morning. She woke when she heard the cage door open. To her disappointment, it was Master Thomas instead of Master Ryan, holding two bowls in his hand, but it stopped mattering instantly as she realized how hungry she was. She waited but he didn’t move. He wanted something. She searched her memory wildly but couldn’t remember any instructions for this, so she did what she figured might be the best thing – she wiggled her way to her knees and bent her head over in submission. It must have been the right guess, because he placed the food before her – something that looked like oatmeal, and water in a bowl. She waited patiently for him to unhook her arms, but he stepped away and closed the cage again. She dared to glance up at him in question.

“You’re going to have to prove you are more than worthless before you get to use your hands.”

These words were so different than the words used by the other Masters last night. They had been firm, demanding, uncompromising and even cruel perhaps, but not all the time, remembering Master Ryan’s calming touches when she was panicking. But Master Thomas’ words sounded…. different. Vicious. None of the others had had the meanness in their voices that Master Thomas was showing.

All this went through her mind as she bent down to start eating with her mouth. She was too hungry to resist, and she knew resisting was not going to change things. She was in survival mode now. The oatmeal was unflavored and unsweetened and lumpy, but lumpy actually helped her get it between her teeth. The water was more difficult until she caught the hang of a lapping/slurping technique. By the end of the meal she had oatmeal all over her face, and was glad there was enough water she could dip her face into to do a little cleaning. Her hair, however, had fallen into the oatmeal and now it coated the strands nearest her face and there was nothing she could do about it.

She sat back on her knees when she was done and waited, for what she didn’t know. He came in eventually and unhooked the chain, but didn’t release her arms. He pulled her to her feet and guided her to the bathroom again, where she was able to pee. She had no way to wipe though.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered after she was done. She did, and gasped as a stream of very cold water hit her between her legs from the hose he was holding. He took his time rinsing the whole area as she gritted her teeth and tried not to wiggle. Finally he was done. He did not offer to dry her and led her, still dripping, out of the room of cages, down the hall to the room he had taken her to the night before. She started whimpering as she realized where they were going. He ignored her as he pushed her through the doorway.

“No, Master, no, please not again…” she begged, starting to collapse at the thought of a repeat of last night.

He said nothing, but brought her over to a low table and pulled out some steps.

“Stop,” he ordered. She obeyed, shaking like a leaf, and spotted Master Ryan in the doorway, just as she felt the bonds on her wrists release. Her arms fell useless to her sides as she cried out with pain. It was several minutes before she could voluntarily move them.

“Up on the table now,” he ordered, “hands and knees, just like last night, but put your arms out in front of you. Ryan, would you please secure them to the head of the table there?” She crawled up onto the table, silent tears leaking down her face, still not certain he wasn’t going to beat her again. As she slowly got into position she felt Ryan take her hands and wrap a strap around them, but not before taking them into his own giant paws and giving them a gentle squeeze. She looked up in astonishment into his eyes and saw the encouragement there before she lowered her head to the table, preparing mentally for whatever was about to happen. And since Master Thomas had made no move to clean them off, the oatmeal-covered strands of hair stuck to her face.

She couldn’t see what Master Thomas was doing, but before too long she felt his hands on her ass. She hissed with pain and tried not to move.

“Mmmmm… nice welts. These will last a long time. And mind you I will not hesitate to add to them, understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she answered meekly.

“I carry a riding crop at all times and any hesitation or smallest disobedience means I will use it, then and there, on those welts. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master, I do.”

She felt his fingers enter her pussy. They were not particularly gentle and didn’t get too far.

“You were sopping wet last night. Why are you so dry this morning?”

Was he serious? He really had to ask why? Last night there had been fear mixed with gentle touches and caresses – she was experienced enough to understand that kind of arousal. This morning had just been fear.

“I do not know, Master.”

He sighed. “It’s no matter. I have plenty of lube,” and he proceeded to squeeze a large cold dollop onto her lower back, where gravity did the work of letting it slide down into the valley between her tense ass cheeks.

She suddenly knew she was not going to be beaten again; instead he was going to have a go at getting something up her ass.

A moment later a finger began pressing insistently at the entrance. She panted and tried to relax to allow him entrance but he had to push pretty firmly before he could even get the tip shoved in. She grunted with pain. He continued to push forward. “Relax, dammit,” he growled, but she was as relaxed as she could get. She felt him try to get another finger in and she tried to cooperate by bearing down but it didn’t help and he had to force it in roughly. This time she cried out in pain.

“Cooperate, slave! Bear down and let me in!”

“Sir, I am bearing down, it has never opened up for anyone,” she pleaded, trying to concentrate on breathing short shallow breaths to manage the feeling of being ripped apart.

He pulled out abruptly, causing her to cry out again.

“Well, it will open for me, I can promise you that,” he warned, and gave her a swat across the ass with the crop. She yelped and jumped. He left her side for a moment and when he returned she caught a glimpse of something rubbery and black with a bulb at the end.

“This will get you open,” and after more cold lube she once again felt something pushed against the rim, and pop in just as painfully as his finger. But this object went much deeper, down, down, until she felt more full than she ever had before. It was uncomfortable but not painful any more after the first minute.

“This is an anal dilator. You will wear it each day until I am satisfied a cock can at least force its way in there.”

Oh, god, oh, god…she was scared. There was a black tube hanging down and she saw him pick up the bulb on the end and give a squeeze. Her sphincter was abruptly forced to expand and she screeched in response. Again she started breathing in short breaths trying to ride out the pain.

“We’ll pump this up a bit more in a little while. You will remain here and stay completely silent. Meantime I have other things to do. Come Ryan.”

They walked out together. She wanted to yell at them. They were going to leave her?? Her hands were still bound in front of her and a strap fastened over her legs. She wasn’t going anywhere until they came back.

Minutes passed. The pain did not recede. She hoped it would, prayed that it would – didn’t everyone get used to the feeling after a while? but it showed no sign of backing down. If anything, it might be getting worse. She tried to distract herself by looking around the room, examining what she could see more closely. And what she could see didn’t make her feel any calmer. Canes of every thickness possible. Floggers, and whips, and straps, and crops. She whimpered and dropped her head, realizing it was very likely that many of those would be used on her as long as she was here. Next to look at were gags. Small, huge, ones with holes in them that could be left in for a long long time, and a couple different sizes of penis gags.

Over in one corner there was something she couldn’t figure out. It was like a sawhorse, except the board that laid across was narrow, but rounded, and there was a pole at each end that rose about three feet up. It didn’t give her a good feeling so she looked around for something else to look at. A spasm in her ass put an end to that though. She hissed and tried to relax. She panted and dropped her head as a moan escaped. For the thousandth time she started softly crying.

She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there, but knew it had been longer than an hour or two. She had gone into a trance-like state partly out of boredom, and partly to escape the pain, which had not backed down at all. She woke abruptly when the door opened and Master Thomas walked in. She had a bad feeling and she cringed as he walked over to her without a word and and picked up the bulb to give another squeeze. Liz had never felt such pain and she shrieked.

“Master, please, please, it hurts so bad, there’s something wrong, the pain is not getting better…” she trailed off as she saw him reach for the crop. “No, Master, please I’m sorry please don’t hit me it just hurts, aaahhh!!!” as he landed the first of ten onto her poor welted ass. She struggled and tried to twist to escape it but only succeeded in getting blows to her hips and legs instead, which hurt worse than on her ass. When he stopped she was hyperventilating.

“I said be quiet,” and he turned and left. Liz sank back as far as she could and sobbed until the pain of the crop receded a little – which only drew attention to the sharp searing endless pain inside her ass.

To her surprise and dismay the door opened again just a few minutes later. She curled up as much as she could and trembled, waiting for whatever horrible thing was going to be done with her.

“Liz,” a gentle voice made her look up quickly. It was Master Ryan, thank god. He held a bowl.

“You thirsty?” She nodded. He placed the bowl just between her arms. “Can you reach it there?”

She bent down and got to it easily, using the slurping technique she had figured out this morning. It was cold and delicious. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile of thanks. He reached out and ran his hand over her hair gently, then grabbed the still-sticky strands and rubbed the oatmeal off of them.

“Hang in there. Learning to endure something is one of the hardest lessons for a slave. It won’t last forever, though it feels like it will.” She nodded, feeling a little more encouraged. Funny how a few words could help.

He moved the water to one side where she could still get to it if she needed. She looked up at him with her eyebrows raised, seeking permission to ask a question.

“Master Thomas has decided no talking, and I must respect his orders. Were you perhaps wondering how much longer this will go on?”

She nodded, grateful that he was perceptive.

“A while. That is something else slaves must learn – to accept what is being done without knowing how long until it is over.”

She hung her head, discouraged. There was no letup in the pain. There was no promise of relief. He stroked her head for a moment and left.

Time crawled. She managed to get into the trance-like stage again, only to be abruptly pulled out when Master Thomas came in again. She curled her head up in her arms again and cringed. Without a word he moved the water onto the floor, still in her view but now out of reach. She waited for the inevitable and so was as prepared as she could be when he squeezed the hated bulb again. Though she tried as hard as she could to stay quiet, she involuntarily let out a small shriek of pain. She barely had time to register the movement before the riding crop landed on her ass once more. Again there were ten blows. Again she was sobbing by the time he was done.

It was so not fair! She was trying to obey, she really was.

The time wore on. She longed for more water, but the bowl was still on the floor, and she could only look at it longingly.

She had no idea how long she knelt there, but her legs and arms were completely numb when Master Thomas came in again. Just seeing him made her start to cry now. To her surprise, he released her hands and then pulled off the strap from her legs. And then, mercy of mercies, he let the air out of the dilator. She wept with relief as he pulled it out.

“It’s too bad we can’t leave this in 24 hours a day. I’m afraid we are going to lose some progress overnight.”

Progress? Is that what he called leaving her in excruciating pain all day? She shuddered.

“Time to go back to your cage. Up, up,” as he prodded her with the crop, but her arms and legs refused to cooperate. She managed to sit up on the side, but when she tried to stand her knees gave way and she fell to the floor.

“All right, if you’d rather be on the floor, so be it. You can crawl back to your cage.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath, half angry and half resigned. He must have noticed, because the crop came down on her bruised ass again as he pushed her forward. Her hands and knees didn’t want to cooperate so she half-crawled, and half-fell her way back to the cage the crop doing its vile thing every couple of steps until she wanted to scream. At last she crawled up the step into the cage, welcoming the slightly soft springy floor on her sore knees.

“Present hands.”

She looked up at him, not understanding.

“Your hands. Behind your back. Now.” Nooooo, he was going to tie them up again. She desperately wanted to have her hands free for just a little while, please? She tried to communicate this to him with a look but he ignored it and fastened the restraints, then left abruptly. She suddenly realized how sore her ass was and she fell over on her side trying to get some weight off of it.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there but after a while Master Ryan came in with two bowls. Lunch? She wasn’t sure.

It was dinner time? She had been on that damn table ALL DAY? She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes.

“Yes, you may speak.”

“Master, I have to go to the bathroom really badly, please?” He helped her up gently and led her to the small room on the far side of the cages. She sank down on the toilet in relief. Not only did she have to pee, but being plugged up for that long, well…..things get backed up.

She was embarrassed and humiliated beyond belief. She could do nothing about it, and tears slipped down her face at that realization. Master Ryan was patient, though, and when it was all over, he gently used the small hose with warm water to clean her. “Shower tomorrow? Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes, Sir. I would. Thank you.” she whispered. He led her back to the cage and helped her get down on her knees to eat.

“Hang on.” he said, and reached into his pocket. He gathered her hair up and put a band around it to keep it out of the food. The simple act of courtesy almost undid her, and she quickly bent down to eat to hide her face.

He closed and locked the cage and left her alone.

Down at the office he sat down next to Thomas. “Sir, I’m… concerned… about the anal training. She is in such pain….”

“Son, all slaves play it up to make it seem worse than it really is. She’s tight, but she’ll be fine, and some man will be really happy the first time he gets to sink his dick in there.”

“Isn’t it better to go slowly with this, though? My slaves have always taken at least a week or more and though it wasn’t always pleasant, they never seemed to be in as much pain.”

“Son, all due respect, but you were training slaves for a small house, on a small estate. This place is serious. We have all kinds of men who will be using this girl, and she’d better be ready for it. They won’t be as gentle as I’ve been.”

Ryan tried to stamp down the rising anger he felt at being trivialized. Thomas actually thought that the more important the clients the harsher the training needed to be? Ryan suddenly wasn’t sure he really wanted this job after all. He needed to consider things tonight.

“And son, be careful showing them anything nice. You know, the water, the thing for her hair? It just slows the breaking process down.”

“I’m going to go get dinner,” Ryan abruptly announced, and Thomas was suddenly alone in the office, wondering what the hell was bugging his new assistant.

~ + + + + + ~

The morning dawned gray and rainy, one of those fall days that means cold weather is definitely on its way. Ryan woke up on the cot in the office as usual – while a slave was living in the cells, she was never left in the building overnight alone – and shivered. He wanted to bury himself in the covers just a bit longer. Then he bolted upright. Why was the building so cold? Oh, lord, if he was cold……

He ran to the cages. Sure enough, she was huddled in the corner, trying desperately to keep warm while being stark naked. He quickly opened the cage and went over to her, laying a warm hand on her freezing skin. She looked up at him blearily as though wondering what other hell he had planned for her now. He scooped her up and trotted into the shower room, where he placed her on a bench near the sinks while he turned the water on. Not too hot yet – she would feel the heat intensely at first. He picked her up and brought her into the large oval shower area designed to be used by several people at once, and placed her on a chair near the spray. He hardly noticed he was standing in the water fully clothed. Carefully he turned the spray to her, and slowly some life sprang back into her eyes. Moving behind her, he undid the bindings, and mindful of how much pain she had yesterday when Thomas removed them, he eased them down gently and massaged them in the warm water. He let the water run all over her and she began to shiver, as though just now registering the fact that she had been so cold.

“Warmer?” she whispered. He obliged and she began to make noises of appreciation and undulate to get more of her body into the heat.

He knew she was going to have to be there for a while to get truly warmed up, and there was no point in bringing her back out until the building was warmed up, so once he was sure she wouldn’t fall over he told her he would be right back, and he left to turn up the heat.

Liz scarcely registered the fact that this was the first time since she left the militia base that she had been alone and had use of her hands.

He checked on her a few minutes later and she was sitting in the water as though in rapture. “Want to stay here a bit more?” he asked. She looked at him with wide eyes. “Yes, please, oh thank you, Master!”

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, actually owe you an apology for not turning up the heat last night. I didn’t realize it was getting so cold. The building should be pretty warm in about ten minutes. There is soap over there and you can wash your hair while you wait.”

“Yes, Sir,” she smiled.

The building actually warmed up sooner than he expected, so only five minutes had gone by when he peeked in on her again. She had washed her hair, and was sitting on one of the benches, smiling softly…..

Ryan’s stomach dropped. She had her hand between her legs and by the movements she was making she was most certainly enjoying it very much. Damn damn damn damn! He should not have left her alone!

He sighed. Her eyes flew open and she looked down as though only just then aware of what she was doing. She stared at her sticky hand in horror, then at him. Her mouth formed an “O” but she seemed unable to speak.

He did nothing but stare at her, and after a moment she dropped her gaze, and then slid off the bench to her knees.

“Oh my god, Master, I didn’t even realize what I was doing, I’m so sorry…..” Her voice trailed off. She knew, big time, she had crossed a line. She knelt, trembling, waiting for the world to come crashing down.

“Are you warmed up?” he asked. She looked up in confusion and nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. I want you to clean off your hand and your ….MY… pussy, and then come out and dry off.” He spoke softly, which only made her more afraid, and she scrambled to obey. Two minutes later she stood before him, damp hair hanging around her lowered head, still trembling.

“Please proceed to the training room.”

A little sob of fear escaped her as she quickly walked past the cages and across the hall. Once she entered she paused and waited.

“Go to the center of the room and kneel. We need to talk.”

Talk? Master Thomas would have had her strung up by her thumbs by now, but Master Ryan wanted to talk?

He pulled up a chair in front of her. “Liz, look at me.” She looked him in the eyes – his golden brown eyes that were so angry right now. “The night you arrived, did we make it clear that touching yourself was completely forbidden, and would result in severe punishment?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said softly and closed her eyes.

“Open your eyes. I want you present here and now to see how angry I am with you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and with a start she realized that it was because she had let him down.

“I have a dilemma. And it means I’m going to have to reveal something to you that I shouldn’t. I need to punish you. Let me clarify. It was my responsibility to watch you, and so it is my responsibility to punish you, not Master Thomas’. But…. if I punish you in an obvious way, when he gets back from town later today, he will see it. He will notice it, and he will punish you again.

“I do not happen to agree with that. One disobedience, one punishment, to be decided by the Master who was offended. No arguing, no re-punishing. So. We have to figure something out. How do I punish you effectively without leaving marks to give it away? I could cuff you to the hook in the ceiling and leave you to hang, but as uncomfortable as it is, it doesn’t begin to be really bad until the second or third hour, and I don’t think we have enough time.”

He thought of something and then turned to look at the strange sawhorse in the corner. He looked back at her, and then pronounced her sentence.

“That is a wooden pony. Have you ever seen one before?” She shook her head fearfully. “Come,” he ordered. She tried to stand up but was trembling so bad he had to reach out and help her. He escorted her over to the contraption, and left her standing for a moment while he lowered the cross-bar almost to the floor. He helped her stand over it and then raised each end back up and began adjusting the height. It was about 1½ inches wide with a rounded top and as it raised up and started to take some of her weight she instantly rose on her tiptoes and put her hands on the cross piece to lift herself up slightly.

“This is what happens. I’m going to restrain your arms behind your back, as I should have done in the first place, and then we wouldn’t be here. You stand on your tiptoes to protect your pussy. But after 5 minutes or so, your legs start to tire, and by 10 minutes they are cramping. So you have to let yourself down to rest your legs. Of course, then your pussy is being pushed into the board by your weight, and it is quite painful.”

She wavered and wobbled, her vision getting a little hazy at those words.

“So then, as fast as you can, you push yourself back up, but your legs give out a little sooner this time. You go up and down, and up and down. It becomes impossible to get away from the pain after twenty minutes or so. But it leaves no marks, other than a very tender pussy, which I am sure you will do your best to hide today.” She nodded furiously.

He moved to tie her hands behind her. Suddenly, she was precariously balanced on her toes.

He stepped away and she looked him in the eyes again. “Master? I am sorry I let you down.”

“Me too. You’ll be here for 45 minutes.”

She whimpered at hearing that, and then settled down to survive.

He was exactly right about the time; at five minutes her legs started to tire, so she tentatively let herself down to ease them, only to spring right back up as her weight settled on that tender area. She held out as long as she could, but suddenly her right leg cramped up and she had to set it flat immediately. She came down hard on the board, and screamed as her weight squashed the tender flesh until she shifted slightly to the side to get the cramp under control. By that time her left leg had gotten too weak, and her full weight descended upon the board. Despite the fact that the board didn’t look very narrow, she felt like she was being split in two. It was no more than a couple of seconds before she had to push up again, but her legs were not ready. She forced herself to stay that way for an unbelievable 5 more minutes before they gave way again and she descended upon the area, her pubic bone and the thin skin under it even more tender than when she started.

She was in hell. It was the worst thing she had ever gone through. He was right again about the timing – at about the 20 minute mark the pain was unbearable. She wept and moaned and begged and screamed but there was no relief, no help, just a swirling vibrantly-colored rainbow of unending pain, completely centered in one searing line running through her pussy. She was being slowly split in half and feeling every moment of it as she went up and down and up and down..

Ryan watched from behind her. Truth be told, he hated the pony, unless it was for a ten minutes with a bratty slave who just needed a quick attitude adjustment. He had never put someone on this long and he was in agony seeing her in such torment. But she had broken rule number one and two – Obey, and Don’t Touch, and at the beginning of training the consequences had to be truly horrible so she would never repeat them again. He was pleased that she apologized for letting him down – THAT was what he wanted to see out of training – a desire from the slave to try her best for him.

At the 35 minute mark she was almost incoherent and was losing her balance. He ended the torment. He held her as he let the board down, then picked her weeping form up and carried her over to the bed. He inspected her pussy and despite the incredible pain it was just a little bruised and swollen, not unlike it might be after a session with a crop. He decided he would use that as an explanation to Thomas if needed.

He looked at her semi-conscious form on the bed and thought it might be safe to leave her for a moment while he went to the office and grabbed an ice pack out of the small freezer. She didn’t notice he was gone. He applied the ice pack gently to her pussy and felt her relax as the area was gradually numbed.

She came around after about five minutes and looked up at him, for a moment confused by what was going on. Then the pain in her pussy caught her and she hissed. She rolled over to her side and curled in a ball, while he continued to keep the cold pack on her tormented center.

After a few minutes she rolled back over to him and stared at him with angry eyes.

“I hate you.”

She stared at him for a moment, waiting for his wrath to come crashing down on top of her, but nothing happened. Well, something did happen. He smiled at her.

“I imagine you do right now. But I am not here for you to like or to hate. I am here to be your Master. And love me or hate me, you will obey me. And be respectful,” he added in a warning tone.

A moment passed while she hid her head again. When she responded, he had to lean forward to catch her whispered words.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl.”

They sat silently for a few minutes before she rolled over to look at him again. She tried to speak, caught herself, stuttered and tried again. He knew she was having an internal struggle, and he knew it was important for her to fight it, to question it, and hopefully, eventually, to make peace with it.

“Master, this is so hard….I don’t know how to give control of something like that to someone else…. it’s like giving up part of my body and my soul; the idea that I can’t touch my own body… I don’t know how to even understand it or come to terms with it. I…can’t believe I’m telling anyone else these things,” she hiccuped, “but touching myself has always brought me comfort, it has helped me relax and go to sleep, it has given me something to enjoy even when everything else seemed like crap… how do I let go of that? It’s like asking me to give you my arm or my leg…..” She ran out of words to describe what she didn’t know how to describe.

“Liz, what you have not come to terms with yet, and which is understandable considering this is your third day of being a slave, is that NO part of your body belongs to you any more. That arm and that leg, they already belong to me, to Thomas, to Master Daniel. Your pleasure, your pain, your hunger and thirst, your fatigue, what you say, your reactions…they all belong to US now, not you. You’ve seen that your ass does not belong to you. Those fingers that were in your pussy? They do not belong to you. That pussy certainly does not belong to you. And as much as that arousal brings you pleasure – that no longer belongs to you either. I know these are harsh words to hear. But this is the reality of slavery and it is our job to keep making that clear, over and over again, until you can accept it.” He wanted to promise her that he would help her find peace and contentment eventually with her new place, but he couldn’t promise that as long as he was not in charge of her training.

She rolled back over away from him. After what she had gone through, she had no fight left. She had to surrender, at least for now.

“I’m…I’m.. sorry, Master. I promise I won’t touch my….your ….pussy again.” She felt like she was losing part of herself.

He smiled at her and petted her head. “Good girl.”

~ + + + + + ~

He let her rest for a while in her cage, hands bound in front for a change, though fastened to a short chain that led up to her collar to keep her hands far away from temptation. Perhaps it was best just to stop wishing she had free hands, she reflected, because at least while they were bound in some way there was no risk of a repeat of this morning.

He brought her lunch as Master Thomas had instructed. He absolutely hated making her eat like a dog, especially after overhearing Thomas’ comment to her the first morning about being worthless. Degrading her wasn’t his way…. but for the thousandth time he had to remind himself he was not in charge and he didn’t know everything there was to know about slave training. The punishment he orchestrated this morning had been a huge insubordination of Master Thomas’ authority, and he was loathe to push the envelope any further.

She wouldn’t meet his eyes as he brought the food to her in bowl. She pushed herself to her knees and bent down to eat without enthusiasm. After less than half the bowl of the fairly tasteless stew she sat back and waited for whatever, her head bowed. Her pussy still throbbed, and she winced with pain as she adjusted her position and her heel pushed into the sore bone.

Master Thomas arrived back shortly after. He went into the cabinet that held all the ‘supplies” and came back with the dilator. She trembled but turned and raised her ass without comment. He noticed how subdued she was and commented to Ryan while she quietly waited in position.

“We had a little …disagreement this morning. I cropped her on her pussy. She’s been very quiet since then.” He sensed Thomas was about to take the subject further and held up his hand. “Sir, it was nothing major, and it has been dealt with. An attitude adjustment worked like a charm.”

Thomas nodded and turned back to the dilator. He lubed it and pushed it in quickly. She tensed but stayed quiet. “We gave it three pumps yesterday – I’m sure we lost some ground so we’ll start with two and work up this afternoon.” He picked up the pump and squeezed once. As she did yesterday, she cried out involuntarily. And, as he did yesterday, he swiped her ass with the crop.

“No noise. It doesn’t hurt that bad and I’m tired of you trying to play it up.” He picked up the bulb again and gave it one more big squeeze. This time she managed to hold in her cry, though it cost her every ounce of control she could summon.

“We’re going to start working on basic slave positions today. Please proceed to the training room.”

She didn’t want to be back in there after the morning’s horrors but there was nothing she could do about it. She crawled slowly to her feet and proceeded to the training room, waddling awkwardly.

He released her arms, and once again they fell painfully to her side. Ryan fisted his hands – why was it so necessary to make everything he did to her so painful? She just stood there with her head lowered. Ryan knew she was not being submissive, she was just defeated, and he knew he was the reason, and he felt bad, though she had not given him much choice. If he could have just comforted her as well as he could give her pain…

“I’m going to direct you into a number of different presentation positions. I expect you to have these memorized by tomorrow and expect to see you practicing them any time you are not otherwise occupied. Most of them are on the floor but we will start with a basic ‘attention’.

“Spread your legs a little more than shoulder width.” He snapped the inside of her legs with the crop. She jumped. “Further.” She opened up more. “Hands behind your back, palms to elbows. Head up,” he lifted her chin with the crop, “eyes down.”

“This is one of two positions you will be in often, usually when in the presence of Masters. It allows them to inspect you, and you can stay this way for hours if required. Alternatively, if I say ‘I’m going to present you’ you will move your arms up behind your head, hands together, and wait for me to grab them and lift them straight up.” He snapped the crop against her ass, “do it, don’t wait to be told.” She hastily did as instructed, and he grabbed her wrists with one hand and lifted them over her head. Her body was stretched out, breasts lifted, looking like a tempting morsel being offered up.

“Ryan, please come and show her what you might do if I offer her to you like this.”

Ryan approached her, her eyes still downcast. He lifted her chin but her eyes never followed it up. He gently took her nipples in his hands and softly started rolling them in between his giant fingers. He heard her sharp intake of breath. He increased the pressure, wanting to get some kind of reaction to his presence, but he was rewarded with nothing more than a squeak. After a moment, his hand strayed down to her pussy, which was dry, and oh so tender. He rubbed it gently anyway, still trying for a reaction, when to his dismay he heard, “don’t, please.” He felt Thomas’ grip stiffen at the words, and Ryan’s heart sank. Another disobedience that couldn’t be ignored, though he understood why she had said it, and now she was going to be punished. Again.

Motioning Ryan to step back and still holding firmly to her hands above her head, he moved around to be slightly in front of her, and without warning he brought the crop up on the underside of her breast. She screamed and tried to twist away but his grip was iron. The crop came up again, this time under the other breast, and again she screamed and tried to twist.

“How dare you say ‘no’!” he hissed angrily. The crop came up again and again until the bottoms of her breasts were covered with bright red welts and she was gasping for breath.

“Thomas!” Ryan said more sharply than he meant to. “Perhaps we should give her a chance to apologize.”

Thomas lowered the crop down. He, too, was breathing hard. He seemed to collect himself though, and addressed the still-gasping Liz.

“Apologize to your Master for refusing him. Now.”

It took a minute for Liz to collect herself enough to form coherent thought. Eventually, they heard, “I apologize, Masters.”

“Again. And say what you are apologizing for.”

“I apologize for telling you not to touch my….your…pussy, Master Ryan.”

“Thank you,” Ryan returned. “Let’s try it again,” and without waiting for her acknowledgment, he put his hand back between her legs and rubbed gently again. She jerked slightly with pain, but did not make a sound.

“Next position,” Master Thomas announced without delay. “Down on your knees.” She lowered herself, still awkwardly because of the dilator, and settled back on her heels.

“Spread your knees,” and he flicked her thighs with the crop until she adjusted. Not satisfied, he flicked her again, and again, until little red welts were clearly visible on her now widely-spaced knees. “Hands behind your back.” She obeyed.

“This is the other position you will be in when in the presence of Masters, unless you are actively serving them or performing a task. It is a position you might be in for several hours, so we will practice that endurance later.”

“Now, lean forward and place your arms straight out in front, and raise your ass up. Higher,” and he flicked the crop to add another red mark to the dozens of purple and red bruises still yet to fade. She let out a tiny screech in surprise, which earned her another, harder swat, one that she anticipated as soon as she made a noise, and she kept quiet.

“This is the punishment position. You present yourself to master with your ass raised and your back bared to await his whip. This is a position I expect to find you in a lot.”

Ryan gritted his teeth again, as the criticism registered in Liz and he noticed her back sagging down. She truly was trying, he knew, and the worst thing that could be done is to tell her that she’s not trying hard enough.

“This is also called usage position, when the knees are spread as far they can be. This is a favorite position of Masters to use their slaves in.”

“Roll over to your back.” She did, keeping her eyes closed to avoid having to look at either of them. “Legs straight, arms at your side. This is prone position. Now put your feet flat on the floor with legs spread and lift your pussy up and present it to me.”

This time she did look up at him, her eyes full of fear. The crop snapped down on her thigh. “Lift it, slave. No hesitation.” She slowly brought her hips off the floor, bringing her extremely tender and vulnerable pussy closer to him, and the crop.

“This is raised prone. The next one is full presentation. Put your hands on your knees and draw them forward and as wide as you can, so that you are as open as you possibly can be.”

Ryan could see the fear in her eyes at the thought of spreading herself so wide in front of Thomas and he intervened.

“Slave, you have nothing to fear IF you obey quickly. I promise.” The last few words were said a little softer as he tried to calm her. Thomas flashed him a look of annoyance, but she had quickly pulled herself into position perfectly and he could find no fault.

“All right. Let’s see how much you remember. Prone!” he called out and she straightened her legs flat out on the floor.

“Knees!” and she was on her knees, spreading her legs as far as she could…and he snapped the inside of her thigh anyway. She struggled to get even another inch spread. He seemed satisfied.

“Attention!” She scrambled to her feet.

“I want to present you!” As her arms went over her head she began trembling, but he let them go.

“Punishment!” And she fell back down on her hands and knees, raising her ass in the air and placing her arms in front of her. There was a moment of silence and then he picked up the bulb and gave another pump. She cried out and started moaning in a soft continuous wail, but she didn’t move.

“Silence!” as the crop came down yet again, and again, and again….

“Raised prone!” It was more difficult to turn over and settle on her bum with the new pain, but she fearfully offered him her pussy.

“All right. You will continue practicing these positions on your own for the next 15 minutes. After that, you will go into kneel with your head bowed, and you will stay there for the rest of the afternoon. I will be by now and then to keep things interesting. If I do not feel your legs are spread wide enough I will crop your pussy.”

What the hell did ‘interesting’ mean? I’m going to be here for the next….three hours? She couldn’t, she just couldn’t. But she did. She had no choice. She moved around in various combinations of positions, calling them out in her head, and when the time was up, she settled on her knees, spread so wide she felt her tendons start to spasm. She went into herself as she prepared to spend the afternoon like this.

A bit later, the door opened, and Master Thomas came over to her. She didn’t move though she was already aching. He bent down in front of her.

“I have a little gift to keep the afternoon interesting.” He played with her nipples for a moment to get them to stand up, and then quickly applied a clamp, with teeth, to her left nipple. She hissed and whimpered but held still. He quickly did the same with the other nipple, and then left. Now she had three areas of pain. Two were new sensations – there was a zing straight to her clit and in spite of herself she knew she was getting wet. She wanted to play with herself. Oh, god, she was suddenly so aroused. And she didn’t dare. She had learned her lesson this morning, and had no doubt the room was on camera anyway.

And endless time later, he came back in. Her nipples were throbbing, though the pain had decreased. But it would not stay that way. He produced something else which he quickly attached to the clamps, and let it fall. She shrieked as the weights reached bottom and yanked her poor nipples down.

“Punishment position!” he barked.

“No, no, Master please, it just hurt so much…,.” she pleaded even as she moved forward onto her hands and knees. The weights on her nipples rocked back and forth, eliciting another muffled screech. She raised up her ass and lowered her head and arms, already overwhelmed with pain, and he brought the crop down on her ass and she fell over to her side crying, her nipples still in hell.

“Back on your knees! Now!” and he brought the crop down on top of the clamps attached to her nipples. She didn’t think they could hurt more, but white-hot needles of pain shot through them. She scrambled to her knees, the weights swinging as she got herself into position, not bothering to try to wipe the tears rolling down her face. He stayed in front of her until she was still, then went around behind her and pumped the bulb up not once, but twice. Liz howled with pain.

He walked out and left her there in her misery for the rest of the afternoon. She had no problem holding still; anything else sent waves of pain through her whole body. At least her hands were free for once.

She tried to think of home and friends and family and the life she had led only a couple of months ago and found she could hardly remember.

“Father…..,” she whispered…..”I have nothing left inside to hold onto….what do I do now?”

~ + + + + + ~

Ryan rolled the crystal glass in his hands and stared at something only he could see.

“Hey there – you OK?” ventured Michael, seated in the other stuffed chair in his office.

Ryan took a moment before answering.

“How long has Thomas been working here?” he asked.

“Uh, well, long before me. I’m pretty sure he was here when Daniel’s father was still Head. Why?”

Ryan hesitated. Saying almost anything would reveal his hand, but this was his best friend, and more importantly Michael was a man with a level head who did not excite easily.

“I…have a few concerns about the slave training.”

“Like what?” Michael sat up abruptly.

Ryan sighed. “I am probably way off base here. The last thing I want to do is tarnish the reputation of a loyal friend of Daniel’s.”

“I understand. But I would like you to tell me what concerns you…even if it ends up being wrong in the end.”

Ryan knew he owed Michael some information. Perhaps Michael could even fill in the blanks.

“When I trained the slaves on my father’s estate…..I never found it necessary to break them first. Most of what I have done has actually been to help the woman slip herself into the role, not force her into it. For instance, when I’ve done something to her that she has to endure, if I give her encouragement during it, and at the end tell her what a good girl she is, she will try even harder the next time. I have disciplined and punished when I needed to, but it wasn’t needed all that much. And I think I did a damn good job of training them. I’ve never had one turn around and seriously rebel, or try to escape.”

Michael nodded; he had seen the slaves at Ryan’s father’s house, and they were definitely obedient, but they also laughed and when they were alone they chattered to each other like magpies. There wasn’t a sullen one in the bunch. That was why Michael had recommended Ryan to Daniel.

Ryan continued. “Ok, see, the other night when Liz rolled over when I tried to touch her ass….I didn’t need to shout or yell or hit her with the crop. All I had to do was look at her until she realized what she needed to do and got back into position on her own. Hell, even you do it – when she fought you before getting whipped, you didn’t manhandle her – you just held her and waited her out, knowing eventually she would run out of steam. And she did.

“Shit, I don’t know. I’m just the apprentice, and he’s been doing this for decades. Daniel’s never complained, that I’ve heard, about how he does it. I really haven’t gotten a feel for the other slaves here and what their training and obedience and attitude are.”

Now it was Michael’s turn to look thoughtfully into his glass. “It varies. We have a couple who are clearly content – Greta for instance – Daniel’s tried to free her many times and she refuses. There are a couple of girls who are clearly biding their time but doing the best they can. And there is one who….well, I am just waiting for her to try to escape. I don’t know what to do with her, and Thomas seems to think the answer is to whip her severely for every infraction.”

“The more you whip a slave the less effective it is. If you are truly having to whip them often, there is a bigger problem. But that’s how he is handling Liz right now.”

“And you don’t think he needs to.”

Ryan shook his head. “I have a sense about her. I think slavery wouldn’t be her first choice, but she has a very strong desire to serve and to please.” A thought occurred to him. “You probably don’t know that the night she arrived, he punished her again after we left Daniel’s study. Pretty harshly in fact. I spoke to him after he was done but got the brush-off, and you know since he’s my boss…” His voice trailed off.

“Shit. We promised her the slate had been cleaned. So much for building any trust.” Michael observed morosely.

“He’s punished her harshly a number of times, like when she cries out in pain after he pumps up the dilator. Every time she moans or whimpers he beats her. He keeps telling me she’s trying to get sympathy, but, dammit, she’s in real pain. Her ass is a mess of bruises, almost none of them for true disobedience. And he never says a nice word to her.”

“And you think he should?”

“Goddammit, yes! The difference between slave who surrenders because she gives up in despair and a slave who submits because she finds contentment in the role is not how hard you can beat her! It is finding out that she can endure and learn and submit and not lose herself and take pride in the pleasure she can give to others. And that comes with encouragement, and praise, and seeing them as people, not as objects to break, even as you teach them to embrace the pain and endure the unendurable.”

“Let me ask you this just for argument’s sake. Are you being too lenient because you feel he is too harsh?”

Ryan snorted. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about this morning, but Michael needed to know he wasn’t a pushover.

“I doubt she’d say that. This morning I left her alone for a minute – bad idea, I know…. and when I came back she had her hand between her legs. I don’t think she even realized it. But after spending 35 minutes on the horse I don’t think she’ll do it again.”

“Ouch. I would hope not. I can’t imagine her wanting to put her hand anywhere near that area for a couple of days.” A thought occurred to him. “Are you worried Thomas will re-punish her?”

Ryan didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t tell him, did you? In fact, you chose the horse because it leaves no marks?”

Ryan nodded. Michael had always been perceptive – it’s what made him so good at his job. “It’s not good for our working relationship, I know. But I’m not sure I can continue working with him, to be honest.”

“You’re thinking of quitting?”

“Yeah, I am. I don’t see any point in being here if his way of training is so different than mine.”

“I would really hate to see you go. I pushed hard to get you here because I felt, and I still feel, that you are one of the best trainers I’ve ever seen – and for exactly the reasons you’ve been arguing about.”

Ryan was silent.

Michael cleared his throat. “Is there anything specific I can bring to Daniel right now? Unfortunately all we have right now is a difference in philosophies.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ryan sighed. “I’m just going to keep quiet for now and do what I can, and hope that he doesn’t go over the line, whatever that is. I already see her giving in to despair and I don’t want to lose her to it.

~ + + + + + ~

Ryan walked back to the slave house, stopping to look at the starry sky above as Liz had done the night she arrived. Thousands of stars pricked holes in the velvet black of the sky, with the Milky Way looking like a soft veil leading off into forever. It could make a man feel very small and humble if he stopped to contemplate his place in the universe.

He let himself back in the small building, feeling the quiet of nighttime settling over the place. Not that it was very busy during the day – at its peak, the building could house as many as fifteen slaves in various stages of training – two in each cage, one in each small cell, and four upstairs in the dormitory, but now it held only a lonely one.

He was terribly thankful that they hadn’t had to figure out what to do with twenty, or nineteen even, after that pregnant girl had been sent home. Daniel and Michael and Thomas had argued back and forth about making arrangements with other families with estates large enough to have and train slaves, but truthfully the idea of letting go of control of the women who were his responsibility had weighed heavily on Daniel. The whole reason to keep the hostages as slaves was to considerably increase the pressure on their government to ransom them to pay for reparations and the three men had truly been taken aback when it looked like Palm might leave all nineteen of them in Alaine for two years.

Thomas was finishing some paperwork and looked up with a smile. “I figured you and Michael would be talking until dawn like Michael tells me you used to.”

Ryan chuckled. “That, sir, was in college, where every idea deserved at least an eight hour argument for and against. Somehow the idea of staying up until dawn now just makes me tired.”

“It’s called responsibility – makes you very tired. And I am old enough to be very grateful that you, dear boy, are the junior one who gets to sleep here while I toddle back to my warm soft bed every night.”

Ryan motioned to the camera. “What’s she doing now?” She was lying on her side with her face away from the camera. The anal dilator hung out of her small hole like a grotesque black tail. Her ass was covered with red marks, but Ryan couldn’t tell if they were new or not. He noted that her hands were not behind her back as usual and commented on that.

“Yeah, well, I pumped the dilator up another notch tonight and she really didn’t like that. Tried to grab it with her hands back there, so I fastened them to a chain from her collar in front. Had to give her ten more with the crop for disobedience.”

Ryan winced internally. Trying to remove something like the dilator was certainly grounds for punishment, but she had been punished so much today for things he found really questionable.

Thomas bid him goodnight and left for his room up at the House. In a bit, Ryan would try to fold his 6ft 4in. frame onto the small cot that was kept in the office. But he wanted to check something first.

He stepped quietly into the cage room and walked up behind the prone form of Liz. To his surprise she was not sleeping, but lying very quiet and obviously concentrating on breathing in and out while tears ran silently down her face.

“Liz?” he said softly, not wanting to scare her.

“Yes, Master?” He could hear discouragement in her voice.

“You OK?” What the fuck kind of question was that? he asked himself. She’d been held hostage, enslaved, had the crap beaten out of her, and had something shoved up her ass that hurt, and he had asked if she was OK?

“It hurts Master. It hurts so bad. It’s supposed to get better as time passes but it’s not. It hurts just as much now as the moment it first went in.”

He was at a loss. She was right; the idea was that it got pumped up a little, it hurt, the hurt eased, then at some point the dilation was increased again. He opened the cage and knelt behind her, looking closely. Thomas was increasing the dilation way too fast with Liz. If Liz were his slave, Ryan might have taken weeks to gradually, incrementally, open her tight little hole, but Thomas was sticking to the schedule he had always gone by, which was a couple of days.

He laid his hand gently on her hip and she stiffened. “Shhh…its okay.” He spent a minute rubbing and stroking the hip, at a loss for what to do. Just like interfering with a punishment, a man, or a master, never interfered with another Master’s training if the slave wasn’t his own. Decreasing the dilator was a sure ticket to getting his ass booted off the estate, and that wouldn’t help her at all.

He had an idea. He couldn’t relieve the pain….but perhaps he could distract her for a bit.

“Liz, I can’t do anything that’s against what Master Thomas has done. But I can do something else. Let me help you stand up.” And he lifted her from the floor as though she no heavier than a butterfly and set her on her feet. Her hands were curled up under her neck, attached to the collar with almost no slack. All right, he would change one thing. Call it following the spirit of the law instead of the letter. He pulled some lengths of chain off the wall behind her, about 18 inches each. One by one he unhooked her cuffs from her collar and fastened the chain between them. She could now bring her arms down to waist height.

“Thank you, Master.” She looked at him gratefully.

“Being at your waist is only temporary I’m afraid, until I bring you back here to go to sleep. I’ll have to shorten them again; they can’t be left long enough for you to grab anything. But not as short, I promise.”

“Yes, Master.” He led her out of the cell. Walking with the damned dilator in was humiliating; she was forced to waddle painfully while the tubing swung back and forth like a tail. They made it to the office, where he paused to grab the blanket off his bed. To her astonishment he drew the blanket around her, then turned and led her out the front door. As the door closed behind them, she looked up in confusion. “Where are we going, Master?”

Waking to music, classic rock, my favorite, I see I am alone. Rolling out of bed and heading into the kitchen, it is spotless, everything in it’s place, with a nice bowl of fresh fruit waiting for breakfast. Leah is not around the kitchen so I move through the dining room, until I can see into the living room. Leah is dancing, really enjoying the music, dressed as instructed for inside. She is dancing and prancing around the room, doing a little dusting, but mostly just feeling the music.

Not wanting to spoil the moment, I stay back in the dining room watching this tiny vision flutter around the room. Her naked body showing how into her dance she is. She is so involved with this little dance that she doesn’t see me move through the dinning room up to the opposite doorway. Standing in the middle of the arch, she finally sees me as she spins back my direction. Her eyes widen as she realizes I am there and jumps back over to try to stop the music. She drops to her knees, lowering her head and waits for me to speak.

Instead I reach down and lift her into my arms, giving her a very long kiss. Pulling back my head I say, “Morning pet, so good to see you happy.”

Carrying her over to the couch and sitting with her in my lap. She looks into my eyes, smiling, replies, “Morning to you Sir, I am happy”.

“About the dancing, I do not want you to feel you can’t be and enjoy being yourself. I do not want you to change, to stop being you. None of this is to make that happen, it is just to make you the person you need to be, desire to become. So dance, sing, enjoy your time, the chores are done and I have given no further instructions, so dance.” As I tell her this I kiss her again.

She begins to suck on my tongue with a definite hunger. I push two fingers into her, one in each hole, and my thumb pushes and rubs her clit hard. She pushes down, grinding against my fingers and thumb. Even though this isn’t going anywhere right now, I do like keeping her wet and ready. Becoming a little more aggressive with her grind, I can tell she is trying to get to her release before I decide I am done, not this time. Close, but no big O.

I push her from the couch and stand up, “Going to get some of that fine juicy fruit I saw in the kitchen, but you go ahead and dance lil one.”

She lands with a thud, square on her hip, she seems to know not to rub or make any indication of her discomfort. She is so ready. I can see that her first thoughts are of my reaction and not her desire, and because of that, I call back to her, “better rub that, looked like it might hurt.”

She watches as I eat but does not have any, I don’t know if she is waiting for me or just not hungry, but the fruit is delicious. I tell her that we have allot to do today and she will be very busy. We have company coming and everything has to be right. She looks at me with those tiny bright eyes and has the look, she is adorable when she doesn’t understand something I say.

“You look as though you have something on your mind, what is it Leah?”

Still looking down she asks, “May I ask who is coming to visit? Are they friends or business?”

“They are some very good friends of mine that I have kept in touch with since the early days.” I smile and look for her reaction. She does brighten up and fights to keep from looking up. “You will like Dominique, lil one, she is a very lovely person. She was a switch when I first met her, she has since become a Professional Dominatrix with her own … uh… studio. She is very good, I have been told, but she has never shown me that side, well, except at my request for a sub that I was training, with me she was always submissive. She is bringing a couple of friends. We are gonna have a nice evening, a little music, a little drink and friends.” Slapping her on the ass I wink and get up from the table.

“So we got allot to do, see you in the shower,” I call back as I head to the bathroom.

As I am finishing up she walks into the bath and wipes my cock dry, Following a nice little ritual we have started with the shower she drops to her knees out side the tub and licks and sucks my balls and cock, stroking and squeezing, making him jump to life in her hands. I step back and then into the shower. The water is very hot and steamy, I reach down and lift her into the tub by her wrists and pigtails until she stands on the side of the tub. We begin today as we began this adventure, I pull her into the shower and against the wall, her feet dangling, my fingers sliding into her from behind. She gets close to cumming and this time I do not stop, giving her a reward for last night.

As the water runs down between us, she quickly builds to her orgasm and tightens, then relaxes quietly, so not to show too much pleasure. I let her move away from the wall and tell her to wash me, I have no time for this right now. She soaps me and scrubs me. Paying most of her attention to my cock and balls, she rinses away the soap, then licks around the head, teasing me and making my cock throb again. I tell her we need to get going, spraying her off with the water.

Getting out of the shower and heading into the bedroom, Leah follows with a towel. Meeting me in the bedroom, she stops and drys me off. Even this attention brings back the life to my cock, I am again standing ready. Not wanting to waste the chance, I pick her up and toss her on her on the bed. Kneeling between her legs, I almost attack her pussy, sucking and licking, not giving her a moment to rest. My fingers pushed inside both holes with just her constant wetness to smooth the way. She jumps and grabs my hair tight, I pull away and slap her across the inside of her legs.

I yell at her, “Did I tell you to grab me, USE A LITTLE FUCKIN CONTROL CUNT,” again I slap her thighs, this time finishing with a good strong spanking of her clit. As she stiffens and controls her actions, I grab a handful of cock and start to cock whip her clit and pussy.

I do not enter her but keep the use of her pussy going as hard and strong as I can. Keeping her on the edge, not letting her take the fall over and cum. Sliding my cock across her pussy as I tease and finger her closer and closer. I stop just as she drops her head back and stand up, not letting her finish, not ceasing the fires burning her up inside. I can see the expression on her face as it fades to disbelief that I had stopped and left her needing. I wipe the wet from my cock on her belly and turn away. Standing and waiting for her to dress me. Slowly she comes over to me and slides my shirt on and starts to button it. She has learned that no response is best when I make a decision. After I am dressed she brings me a chair to sit so she can put on my shoes. When they are tied she sits back on her heels and waits for me to tell her what to wear.

I want to see you sexy and frilly, not knowing your clothes I will leave the details to you. You know my likes and what I want, so show me you understand. We will be shopping in public, so remember that, no need for trouble from the law.

“Be ready in 30 minutes, not 31,” and out the door I go.

When I tell her it is time to go, she meets me at the car. She is wearing a very tiny lacy white micro – mini skirt that barely covers her crotch when she is standing up right, any movement just shows more. Her top is a powder blue camisole with a tiny flower pattern. She is wearing a pair of denim ankle boots with frilly white bobby socks. Her hair is in pigtails and just a tiny touch of make-up. She certainly does know me. When she stops and does a little twirl I tell her, “You are just adorable, my pet.”

Slipping into the car, she snuggles up against me. Dropping her hand into my lap. Not doing anything, just so she is resting on my cock. We spent the day shopping and just walking around town. I felt like a kid myself, she was fluttering around and teasing me now and then, I let her go, she is having so much fun just being free and open with me. I could see that she must have a “little” inside, wishing there would be time to explore that with her. But it is just a week.

When ever we have a few moments alone I play wither her pussy, teasing her ass and clit keeping her right on the edge. Her panties are ready to start dripping from my attention, and each time she pushes harder against me.

We slip into a lingerie shop and pick out a few things to try on, Then we disappear into the dressing room. Only the clerk is in the store besides us and she is busy with what looks like an inventory. Leah takes in a few skirts, shorts and tops in to try on. She drops her skirt and starts to try on the first on, a little black number slit up the side. I lift her up on the shelf in there, happy she is so small. When she is up there I pull the leg of her panties over and reaching into my pocket, pull out a set of Ben Wa balls. I push them in deep, her pussy grabs them and makes room for them inside, a nice tight fit.

These are a very special pair, I have a remote in the other pocket. I pull it out and turn it on, smiling I raise the strength until she is uncomfortable sitting still. Letting her down, I tell her to continue with the clothes.

She finishes trying on the sexy undies, we purchase some and leave. I keep the vibrations at a nice low rate. Yet I can see it is affecting everything she does, she is having trouble concentrating, moving from shop to shop, and even standing still. Every time she talks to a clerk, salesperson or even the other shoppers I give it a boost, as high as I feel she can take. Watching her closely, I see her have a huge orgasm as she talked to a very pretty salesgirl. She cums as they talk and this time it is a gush, the insides of her legs get drenched and there is a puddle on the floor. She looks at me and motions to the floor. I am amazed, she is asking if I want her to clean up her mess! That is usually licking it clean from the floor. I shake my head no, but, I will remember the offer.

The salesgirl sees her problem, leads her into a dressing room and grabs a towel. When they get inside the girl lifts her dress and starts to wipe her legs and pussy. I can see the dressing room doors but not inside, so I wait a few minutes and start the vibrations up again even stronger. She tells me later, that as soon as I raised the vibrations, she gushed all over the floor of the dressing room. The salesgirl cleaned her up again and helped her get a new pair of undies. My pet confesses as to what was going on with me outside waiting with the remote and she was wearing the toy. Leah said that the salesgirl, who just happened to be named Joy, gave her a kiss and squeezed her pussy, telling her to call, she would love to play too.

We finish the days shopping, with the big gush for Joy the only real relief she had from me and the toy. She squirms in the seat all the way home, even with a sulk on her face, I can tell it was a thrilling shopping trip for her. We get back to the house and put things away, then start to prepare for company. Just a nice clean up for the house and a good clean up for the dungeon room. The preparations are in place and the evening treats are ready and out on the table. I tell Leah she needs to get ready, to go and prepare for the evening, remembering the house rules about her dress inside my home.

When they arrive, I greet them at the door, first in is Lili, Dominique’s slave. She is a tiny asian girl with long jet black hair and deep brown eyes. Next is Chase, he is Dominique’s switch and keeps her studio and other subs in line and ready for her. She loves to watch a man controlling other women, as she controls him. Then of course there was Dominique, I have known her for a very long time, She was one of my last trainees, she took to it even faster than Leah. She is a Nubian princess, black silky skin, dark brown eyes. Her hair short cropped, she has a smile that makes the sun jealous. Her mom was from Japan and her father was a Bahamian, from Nassau. She has a wonderful British accent, she calls me Papa, back in that life my subs and trainees were like my kids. When she looks up and says, “Please Papa,” I melt.

With Chase mixing and Lili serving, the night started with us all in the living room, drinking, relaxing and listening to music. After a nice bit of conversation, we share a round or two of Absinthe. I had two 1913 pre-ban bottles of Pernod Fils from France and this felt like the perfect time to present it. It has become very relaxed in the living room as Dominique is laying across the couch and in my lap, she is laying there slowly stroking me, occasionally a bit of kissing and licking to make him jump a bit. I tell Dominique that it’s time to present my secret. With that I motion to Chase to open the door to the dungeon and out steps my new pet. She is dressed in only her slave wear. Three gifts she earned, a piece of rope and a choker chain, nothing else. Her hair in pigtails and her pussy freshly shaven and powder soft.

“This is Leah, she has chosen to learn from us, to submit to me and accept her training. She is a slutty little thing that knows how to be used and loves the experience. Tonight she is about to give all of herself over to me and in turn I will give her to you, to do with as I please, and as I direct.”

After her introduction she moves in front of us, lowers to her knees. Then drops her head to the floor, arms extended above. I tell her to rise to her knees and leave her hands at her side. When she first sees my cock in the small black hands of our guest, there was a look of confusion on her face. That left quickly and her shy smile returned. Her lovely breasts are in view and the nipples could cut glass. I wish I could hear her heart, I am sure it is about to jump from inside. I can see the gleam in her eye and I know this is just what she needed.

“Leah, this beautiful princess is Dominique, when she is with me, her word is my word. You will do as she commands. Leah nods in agreement, and I tell her, “You are not bound to be told to speak tonight, I want to hear your pleasure, so you may talk and express it.

When I say this, she says, in a faint distant voice, “Yes Sir, I bow to My Lady, she is you and to be obeyed.” She again lowers down to bow on the floor.

Dominique slides around on the couch and sits, telling my little slut, “Hello my pretty, you are so adorable. Show me what my true Master loves about you, let us see that pussy.”

Leah turns on her knees and again drops her head, but this time she raises her ass as she faces away. He pussy is glistening, with a few droplets of her wet lust running down the inside of her thighs. Seeing the line of pleasure rolling down her flesh Dominique adds, “Mmmmmmm, that is a lovely little kitty you have there, so wet and wanting.”

Dominique slides off the couch and over to slip in behind Leah, teases, fingers and licks her wet drippy pussy, driving Leah wild. This pleasure is only there for a few moments and Dominique moves away from Leah, back to the couch with me. Offering her wet fingers to me to taste and stroking my cock with the other hand, also very wet from my pet. Looking back at Leah, she tells Chase and Lili to get Leah ready in the dungeon. Showing no mercy they each grab an arm and drag her to the playroom. As they work on Leah in the playroom, Dominique and I return to the absinthe, sharing another aperitif. While we wait Dominique continues to stroke my cock. I slide a few fingers into her wet pink pussy, she is so very wet.

Lili appears at the door, head down, arms behind her, waiting to be acknowledged. After a short time Dominique looks at her and says, “What do you need, worm? Speak to me, slut.”

“Ma’am, the new one is ready for you and Sir, at your request.” She again waits for her Mistress’s reply.

“Then we shall be in shortly, you may go.” As she answered, Dominique turns to me and slides up til she is sitting in my lap.

“I always loved you inside me, may I Sir, may I slide down your cock for old times sake?” Leaning forward she snuggles my neck and I hear, “Please Papa.”

I slide my hands under her so strong and tiny ass, smooth as silk and as hot as fire. I lift her so she can slip the head inside. She is so wet and ready, when I relax my hold and let her down, she slides till I am buried deep inside. She stops with a low moan and start a slow grind against my lap. Slowly rocking her hips back and forth I can feel her pussy sucking at me, pulling me in. she is holding me tight and I know it is her getting ready to cum so I slip a finger into her ass. She jumps and start to cum, I feel her flood my lap with her juices. As her shaking slows down, she slide off and licks us both off my cock. She stands and takes my hand to lead me into the playroom.

Lili is standing at the door waiting for us. I said she is asian, I believe Laotian, she was a soldiers daughter that was killed, I know we were never in Laos, right. She lost her mom just before she came over to the states and was sent to her grandparents. They were not thrilled with this little girl and she …… well, fell into a bad crowd. Dominique rescued her from the street and gave her a home and helped her see who she really was. Now she belongs and is happy. She is very tiny, small round breasts and a lovely tight little ass. She is smooth and has her clit and labia both pierced, and a ring in each nipple. Her dress is as simple as Leah’s, naked and in slave gear, her bands and collar are pink silk. She has a slave chain that is connected to her nipples and those chains wrap around her and connect to a single chain attached to her clit ring and following her ass crack like a thong. There is a ring just above her ass that connects them all to an easy to grab place.

Lili leads us in and over to my overstuffed chair. I sit and Dominique slides onto my lap, her wet pussy slipping across my skin. Once we are comfortable, Lili drops her head and backs away. This opens the room to our view, there are candles and scented oil lamps lighting the center and leaving the outer edges in a darkened haze. Dominique whispers in my ear.

“Master I have brought you a gift, to show you how much I care. I know your playroom needs a few new things, so I brought one you might not think to get.” kissing my chest. She returns to stroking me and keeping me as hard as ever.

Chase is behind Lili, dressed in a pair of leather chaps, nothing else, except his slave wear and collar of black leather. He is a big man, young, blonde and ripped. He was found in a male bondage club and kidnapped by Dominique. He is now her slave and enforcer, he is the muscle that makes her trainees keep their place. Chase is also a rope master and if you wanted him to, can suspend a damn truck from the ceiling.

Behind Chase is the gift from Dominique, a wooden pony. I can see Leah, straddling the wooden pony with her legs spread and tied to floor rings. Her legs are pulled straight and she is barely able to stay on her toes . This helps keep her clit just above the peak, most of the time anyway. Leaning forward with her arms bound behind her. From her wrists to above her elbows, drawing them together, it is a tight braid. At the top, between the elbows, there is a rope that has her suspended just enough so her clit is barely in contact with the peak. Another chain is connected to her choker keeping it taut. Then to top it all off, I see she has an anal hook as part of her suspension and is wearing a ball gag. Even the slightest movement on her part scrapes and rubs her clit across the point of the pony if she lowers from her toes. She looks wild hanging there. She can see us as well and the look in her eyes reassures me she is ok. The sides of the pony are already soaked from her.

Then I realize that she has been like that since before Lili came in to get us, and we didn’t exactly hurry. I ask my pet, “lil slut, are you enjoying the ride?” I grab a handful of Dominique’s pussy and she jumps and then lets it start to build. I want Leah to see me with her, to know this is ownership, not a relationship. She need to understand the difference. As the princess begins to cum, her slave, without any sign from her mistress, drops to her knees and licks her pussy clean. When she has gotten all of Dominique’s cum I grab her by the hair and pull her to my cock, almost immediately she opens her mouth and lets my cock slide into her throat.